


Zero-Day Exploit

by pleasanthell



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasanthell/pseuds/pleasanthell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reese had to carry a beaten, bloody, and bullet ridden Shaw out of the Samaritan facility she was being kept in while Root snuck back in and planted a virus. The virus was would easily be shut down, but it was just a distraction so they could escape. After the virus was planted, she set a few charges and took out the facility. No one was sure that Root actually made it out alive until she sent Finch a message a week later. She had been injured, but had made it out of the fiery building. The Machine kept her appraised of Shaw’s condition and when Shaw was okay, Root left New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. $ locate user.ROOT

Shaw took off her outer shirt. It was hot. It was really hot. She tucked her gun in the back of her jeans and opened the door of the SUV she had rented at the airport. Her sunglasses started sliding off of her nose because as hard as she had the AC running, she sweat all the way to this small house in the middle of nowhere.

Shaw looked around and didn’t see much of anything. The land was flat and there wasn’t much rising from the dirt. There were fields on all sides of the house. One of them looked to be growing cotton. Shaw wasn’t used to having such an unobstructed view anywhere. However it did leave her completely exposed out in the open.

The sun beat down on her slow walk down the dirt path to the house. It stood alone against the heat, the closest neighbor being more than three football fields away.

She looked behind the SUV and then made her way down the side of the house. It was blue with white accents. Cute by any standard. The wrap around porch was neglected, but still sturdy. Shaw leaned on the wall next to the picture window facing the driveway and looked in. She didn’t see any movement except for the ceiling fan.

When she went to the front door, she found it cracked open. Maybe she was too late to save her number. She drew her gun and pushed the door open. She looked around the living room. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture. There was a cream colored couch was flanked by two light grey chairs. Everything looked clean and well organized.

She pushed the door closed behind herself and slowly swept the living room. The entire place was clean, but other than that there was no way to tell that anyone lived there. There weren’t any electronics or books. Just the couch, chairs, a rug, and a coffee table all facing a fireplace that was bare.

There was a small creak that caught Shaw’s attention. She started moving toward the sound. She spotted some stairs and started moving toward them.

Then she stopped cold. She could feel it behind her. Right behind her. There was a gun pointed at her head.

It took less than half a second for Shaw to whirl around, point the gun away from herself and hit her assailant with a swift punch to the cheekbone, as the gun went off. She got a knee to the stomach, but regained her bearings. Without thinking, she pointed her gun at the other person’s head. She immediately dropped it when she saw who it was.

“Nice to see you too, sweetie,” Root brought her hand up to her cheek. The skin split and a little bit of blood trickled down her face. She wiped it away and walked to the kitchen.

Shaw watched Root put her gun down on the kitchen island and moved to the freezer. “That’s it?” She stepped into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. She found that there was barely any food in it, but there were plenty of water bottles. She helped herself. Since Root didn’t answer her initial question she decided to comment, “It’s hot as hell outside.”

“Welcome to Texas,” Root got a white dishtowel out of the drawer next to the sink and put some ice in it. She pressed it to her cheek. “Why are you here, Sameen?”

Shaw drank half the bottle of water. “Your number came up.”

Root frowned. She walked past Shaw and through the living room. Shaw followed her down a hallway, through a doorway, and down some stairs into the basement. There was a massive computer system set up with four screens all showing different things. Root sat down in the chair and picked up a keyboard setting it in her lap. “I didn’t send Harold my number.”

“The Machine is still sending you numbers?” Shaw asked, looking at the opposite wall of the basement where Root was building a small arsenal of weapons. Five handguns were lined up on the shelf. A shotgun and sniper rifle were mounted on the wall. All the guns showed the wear and tear of field work. Ammo was stacked in neat boxes.

Root nodded, looking up at the screen, “I forward them to Harold through a secured network from here to his phone.” She leaned forward, squinting at the screen, “How did he get it?”

Shaw found a metal box next to the ammo on a shelf. She opened it and found passports and different forms of ID that all had Root’s picture, but with different names and addresses. Shaw picked up one of the passports and opened it, looking for stamps, “You knew your number was up?”

“She told me a few days ago,” Root swiveled in her chair and looked at Shaw going through their stuff it was a year ago. Like they had actually seen each other in the past year and a half.

“Harold told me a few days ago too,” Shaw looked in the passport, “We weren’t sure where to find you, but Reese and I split up. He’s in Maine,” Shaw turned the passport toward Root, “Vacation in Portugal?”

“Work in Portugal,” Root leaned back in her chair, looking at the screens. “The apartment in Maine was a decoy.”

Shaw put the passport back. It was obvious that Root was annoyed by her presence.  Shaw didn’t know what to make of it. Before, every time they met Root greeted her with a smile and an affectionate name. So Shaw decided to stick to business for the time being. “It’s probably stupid to ask if there’s anyone who wants to kill you.”

“I’ve already been working on my own case,” Root stated, looking at the screen. “I’ve narrowed it down to less than fifty people or organizations who are still alive and may want to kill me.”

“You’re more popular than I thought,” Shaw walked up behind Root and tried to decipher what was on the screens. She saw some pictures and names that she recognized. “Is that why you’re hiding out in Texas?”

“I’ve been here on and off for a few months,” Root answered flatly, “It’s out of the way, close to the border. I can come and go and no one knows. And it’s a few minutes from the beach.”

“But there’s a guy at the diner on Main Street that told me that there is a cute brunette that comes in a few times a week for coffee and breakfast tacos,” Shaw crossed her arms. “He pointed me in this direction. There aren’t many houses this way.”

“There are other cute brunettes in town,” Root answered offhandedly. She tilted her head and kept manipulating the keyboard.

“Come back to New York,” Shaw finally told Root what she really came to do, “We can protect you better there.”

“How do you know I’m not the perpetrator?” Root asked back.

Shaw rolled her eyes, “The Machine can protect you better in New York.”

“The Machine can see almost every inch of this town thanks to a new security company that opened up a year ago,” Root tapped a few buttons on the keyboard and every computer screen filled with feeds from the town’s security cameras. “One break in at the mayor’s house and the whole town wanted a security system.”

“You’re an evil genius,” Shaw mentioned as she watched the people of the small town walk around. “Did you know I was coming?”

“I knew you were coming,” Root answered, “I didn’t think it would take you that long to get here.” She stood up and walked to the stairs.

“My flight from O’Hare was delayed,” Shaw followed Root up the stairs. She watched her retrieve some water from the refrigerator.

“That’s not-” Root started, but shook her head, “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. I have a handle on the situation.”

“That’s why the Machine has sent your number to Finch every day for the past four days?” Shaw asked. “Because you have a handle on it?”

Root froze in place. She looked out the window over the sink that overlooked a field. She closed her water bottle and put it down on the counter. Root rubbed her eyes. She didn’t want to be having any conversation remotely close to that one with Shaw.

Shaw looked at Root for a moment who most certainly wouldn’t look back. Finally she huffed and marched out the door.

Root hung her head and closed her eyes. She was relieved and heartbroken that Shaw left. She thought it would take more to convince her. Maybe she was wrong about –

The front door opened again and Shaw dropped a black duffel bag on the couch. When she saw Root looking at her, she pointedly laid down on the couch.

Root moved to the living room and stood over the couch, leaning on the back of it. She looked down at Shaw, “What are you doing, Sameen?”

“I’m staying here,” Shaw stated. She took her gun out of her pants and placed it on the coffee table. “I’ll stay here until the Machine stops sending Finch your number. When you’re in the clear, I can disappear.”

Root knew there was no swaying Shaw. She crossed her arms and swallowed, “There’s another bedroom upstairs. You don’t have to stay on the couch.” Root walked off and her footsteps disappeared up the stairs. Shaw decided to follow to get the layout of the house down.

After she looked in the room that would probably be hers, she found Root exiting a doorway into a short hallway. She had a backpack on and walked right past Shaw down the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“Matamoros,” Root kept walking down the stairs, “There’s a commodities trader whose number is up.”

“What about your number?” Shaw asked picking up her gun and following Root to the door.

“Just because I’m in a little danger doesn’t stop other numbers,” Root opened the door and walked out.

Shaw ran after her, closing the door behind herself. She followed Root to the garage. Root lifted up the door of the garage and stepped in, picking up some keys off of a hook on the wall. Shaw looked over the car, “Whoa.”

Root smiled for the first time since Shaw had arrived. “It’s a ’69 Mustang Mach 1 Cobra Jet. I rebuilt it myself. Harold suggested it as a hobby.”

“You’ve been talking to Harold?” Shaw was incensed. Harold never told Shaw what happened to Root. She never knew if Root was okay or she had been kidnapped and was being tortured for information about The Machine.

“Not talking,” Root dug in her pocket for her phone and tossed the keys to Shaw, “Encrypted emails.”

Shaw smiled when the keys hit her hand. She loved fast cars and the fact that Root was letting her drive was a sign that she wasn’t completely unwelcome.

Root had out her laptop typing most of the way to the border. Root didn’t look up when she was giving directions. She told Shaw that they weren’t going through a security checkpoint. When Shaw asked her why she answered because of the illegal sniper rifle in the trunk of the car.

The windows were down and hot air swirled around the interior of the car. They crossed a small bridge made of haphazardly placed construction supplies. Root scanned the horizon once, “Welcome to Mexico.”

They drove into Matamoros unhindered. Shaw followed Root’s instructions deep into downtown Matamoros. However when she stopped at a stoplight, Root got out of the car and closed the door. Shaw couldn’t get out because the traffic around her was starting to take off.

Her earpiece dinged and she tapped it. “Root, what’s going on?”

“There’s an envelope with eight hundred pesos in it,” Root answered, “Go get a drink. Buy yourself something pretty. I’ll come find you when I’m done.”

“I can help you,” Shaw answered finding somewhere to part downtown.

Root answered, “Not this time. Bye Shaw.”

Shaw was about to open the door of the car and get out when she heard Root sign off. Root never called her Shaw. She was Sameen or Sweetie. Root hadn’t called her Shaw in…years.

She decided to head into the closest dive bar she could find. She was sure Root would call her if she was really in trouble. She drank beer and watched sports on the flat screens behind the bar. She didn’t really care for it. She decided to call Finch.

“I found Root,” Shaw answered, “Of course I could have just asked you where she was.”

“I didn’t know where Ms. Groves was,” Finch answered, “Only that she was alive and still talking to The Machine.”

Shaw took a sip of her beer, “She just disappears and you don’t tell any of us that she’s okay?”

“She asked me not to,” Finch paused, “I assume she’s resistant to coming back to New York.”

“Resistant is an understatement,” Shaw leaned back in her chair. She looked around the bar. Few people were in the bar at that hour of the day.

“Would you like Mr. Reese to join you?” Finch asked.

“No,” Shaw put her arm over the back of her chair, “I got it.” She saw a guy at the other end of the bar eyeing her. She rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t going to turn down a free beer. She wagged her almost empty beer bottle in the air at the man. He immediately sent a new one over to her. “Has the Machine said anything else about Root?”

“The Machine just sent me Ms. Groves’ number again,” Finch inhaled deeply, “This pattern is troubling. Mr. Reese and I will be on standby if you need us.”

Shaw gulped down her new beer and put the empty bottle on the bar. She walked out of the bar and down the street. She was going to find Root. She only got a block when the black Mustang rolled up next to her. Root looked out the window at Shaw who moved to the passenger’s seat. When she sat down a large German Shepard stuck it’s head between the seats.

“You get a new friend?” Shaw asked scratching the dog under the chin.

“I couldn’t just leave her there,” Root answered driving away, “Especially after I shot her owner.”

“What’s her name?” Shaw turned around in her seat as much as she could with her seatbelt on. She smiled, looking at the dog, sitting happily in the backseat.

Root smirked to herself, “Ursa.”

“Clever,” Shaw quipped. “Are you going to keep her?”

Root shrugged, “Until I can find somewhere better for her.”

They drove back across the border the same way they came. When they moved into the house, Shaw walked the whole house making sure nothing had changed, while Root went straight to the basement. When Shaw walked down to the basement, she found Shaw at her computer with Ursa laying on a makeshift bed of blankets on the floor.

Shaw wanted to say something. She was so used to Root doing most of the talking that when she wasn’t talking, it was way too quiet. “Are you hungry?”

Root finished was she was typing and swiveled around to look at Shaw. She studied her for a minute before standing, “How do you feel about barbeque?”

They brought the dog with them to a barbeque place down the road. The smell permeated through the air blocks before they even got there. Shaw inhaled deeply, taking in the smoky, mesquite smell. They didn’t have a leash for the dog, but she walked with them to one of the picnic tables outside.

Shaw went inside and ordered for them, while Root sat with Ursa at a wooden table with plastic chairs. She looked out on the town that used to be her own, knowing that she didn’t belong anymore. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Shaw being there. She certainly felt conflicted. She was in hiding for a reason and she thought moving to the one place in the world she always swore she would never go back to would have kept everyone in the dark as to where she was.

Shaw returned with two beers and all the barbeque she could carry. The sun was starting to set, illuminating the big open sky with orange and pink streaks. Shaw leaned back in her chair. She gave the dog laying at Root’s feet one of her ribs and then dug in herself.

“How many numbers have you taken care of yourself?” Shaw asked. She had wondered what exactly Root had been doing for the past year. It couldn’t have been hiding in the basement and rebuilding old cars.

Root thought it over. “Two hundred and fifty-seven.”

“By yourself?” Shaw asked.

Root grinned, the first time it was directed at Shaw since Shaw arrived in the Lone Star State, “She and I, we work well together. I saved thirty in one day because of a cartel war in Laredo.”

“Was that back in April?” Shaw asked. “Finch told us to be on standby for a trip to Laredo.”

“Yeah,” Root looked down at her food with a small smile, “That was a fun day.”

Shaw looked right at Root. She took a drink of her beer and sat back, “You’ve been out here alone this whole time?” Shaw asked, looking sympathetically at Root.

Root shook her head, “I have Her. I’m never alone.”

Ursa nosed Shaw’s leg looking for some more food. Shaw threw the dog another piece of meat and rubbed her head. “Good girl.”

“How is Harold?” Root finally spoke up first. “He always tells me that he’s fine, but I don’t think that he would tell me if he wasn’t.”

“He’s alright,” Shaw leaned on the table. “Healthy. But he misses you. I can tell sometimes he wants to talk about The Machine, but it’s not something Reese or I would understand.”

“We email,” Root stated coolly.

“It’s not the same,” Shaw finished off her beer and stood up. She pointed to Root’s beer, “Want another?”

Root looked at her beer. She shook her head, “No thank you.”

Shaw went inside and got another one while, Root picked at her food and looked out at the sunset. She did miss New York. She missed the team. Most of all she missed the woman who had been sitting across from her.

Reese had to carry a beaten, bloody, and bullet ridden Shaw out of the Samaritan facility she was being kept in while Root snuck back in and planted a virus. The virus was would easily be shut down, but it was just a distraction so they could escape. After the virus was planted, she set a few charges and took out the facility. No one was sure that Root actually made it out alive until she sent Finch a message a week later. She had been injured, but had made it out of the fiery building. The Machine kept her appraised of Shaw’s condition and when Shaw was okay, Root left New York.

Shaw came back with some peach cobbler and another beer. “Since this is Texas can we shoot our guns in your backyard?”

Root shrugged. “My neighbors do.”

Shaw grinned.

Ursa didn’t like the sound of guns so she stayed in the house while Root let Shaw try out all of her guns. They even took out the illegal sniper rifle and set up some paper targets Root bought at a gas station on a tree a thousand yards away.

“I may be in love with this gun,” Shaw stated right after she took a shot. She looked through the computerized scope at her shot.

Root looked through some night vision binoculars and hummed. “Good shot.”

“What kind of bullets are these?” Shaw asked, adjusting her shoulders.

Root leaned back in her chair and put her feet on a blue cooler she brought outside. “You tell me, Sameen.” She turned the electric lantern, next to her chair, down a little so she could see the target better.

Shaw smiled at the use her name. She took a deep breath through her nose. “One seventy-five grain. Russian powder. Homemade. You make it yourself?”

“No,” Root answered. “I buy them from a man who lives a few towns away. He doesn’t keep track of inventory or ask questions. All cash. No trace.”

Shaw pointed a gun at her target and fired. She hit what she was aiming for dead center. “When whoever is trying to kill you, finds you, I want this gun.”

“You can have it,” Root kicked open the cooler and got out a beer, “The owner doesn’t need it anymore.”

Shaw knew that cryptic sentence meant that the gun was taken from the dead person involving one of the numbers. “Why do you think that the Machine keeps sending your number to Finch?”

“I don’t know,” Root looked through the binoculars so that she didn’t have to look at Shaw, “But she’s never wrong. So either I’m unwittingly committing many violent crimes every day or I’m in _a lot_ of trouble.”

Shaw paused. She picked her head up from the scope and looked over her shoulder. “Well, I’ve seen you commit a lot of violent crimes so I know that’s not what you’re doing. But I’m here…so…whatever trouble you’re in…”

“Touching sentiment,” Root scanned the horizon, “However, the trouble I’m in may be too much.”

“For me?” Shaw snorted and looked through the scope.

Root pulled a taser out of the cooler and pointed the little red dot at the small of Shaw’s back. She pulled the trigger, sending the prongs sailing through the air. Shaw seized before falling limp. “Too much for me to let you put yourself in danger for me.”

Root dropped the taser, stood up, and opened the cooler. She picked up a duffel bag out of the cooler and threw it over her shoulder. Then she walked to the garage and opened it again, seeing her black beauty looking back at her.

But in the shiny paint she saw something moving behind her. When Root whirled around, she was tased in the neck, falling into the arms of her assailant.


	2. mv source target

Root woke up on the couch of her house. She was on her back, looking up at the ceiling fan when she opened her eyes. She groaned and straightened her back, “How did you stop the taser, Sameen?”

Shaw was sitting at the dining table, next to the living room, cleaning the guns, “Carbon fiber tape.”

Root didn’t even blink at the fact that Shaw had put tape inside of her shirt as a precaution. “Smart,” Root sat up and put her hands on her knees. “Sorry about tasing you.”

“It wasn’t the first time,” Shaw smirked, “I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Where’s the dog?”  Root stood up and rolled her neck. She walked over to the table and sat down across from Shaw.

“She likes it in the basement. Already taking after you,” Shaw screwed the suppressor into the end of the handgun barrel.

Root leaned on the table with her elbows, “I guess trying to get away from you will be futile.”

Shaw reached down next to her chair and heaved up a large black box onto the table. It was a car battery. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and your car is missing something.”

“There’s a -“

Shaw picked up another part from the ground and placed it on the table, “Spark plug from your dirt bike behind the house. You’re not going anywhere.”

“So this is where we have our stand?” Root looked around, “My childhood home in the middle of the valley?” Root took a deep breath. She nodded, “Alright.” If Shaw was ready to dig her feet in the dry dirt of Bishop, Root would do so next to her.

The hacker stood from the table and moved to the window. She rubbed her ear. It was a nervous habit that she kicked when she was a kid. Maybe being back brought it up again. She knocked on the window, listening for the dull thud of bulletproof glass. It was dark past the light on the front porch but the horizon promised sunrise soon. She had been out longer than she thought.

She could see Shaw watching her from the reflection in the window. With all the power and intelligence The Machine had, it could never tell her what Shaw was thinking.

“Why weren’t you there when I woke up?”

Of course Shaw usually said what she was thinking.

Root took a step toward the table Shaw was sitting at. She wanted to ask Shaw why it mattered, but she knew why. She wasn’t going to make Shaw uncomfortable just to feed her own ego by listening to the words out loud. Root flexed her jaw, “I…felt responsible.”

Shaw shook her head finding that absolutely ludicrous, “You did everything you were supposed to do.” She picked up the barrel of one of Root’s handgun and began cleaning it.

“The Machine plays what I like to call a game with variables,” Root paced slowly next to the small four person dining table, “Because for the most part, people are predictable. You know that. Some people are wildcards. But sometimes…they surprise you.” She swallowed, “Like you surprised me in the elevator. You surprised both of us.” As she spoke of it, she could see Shaw taking bullets in her mind. She could see her falling to the ground and not being able to save her. “The sacrifice play was supposed to be mine.”

Shaw was stunned. She didn’t think sacrificing Root was part of the plan. But maybe it was the plan all along. Maybe the Machine knew that Shaw would save Root. There was really no way to know, but it was something that played in her mind. She swallowed, but didn’t speak. She knew that Root had probably been going over the scene in her head a million times trying to figure out if Shaw being shot was the plan of her Machine or an unforeseen consequence of a wildcard.

Root rubbed her neck. It was still a little tender where she’d been tased. She moved over to the table next to Shaw and looked down at her. She could see Shaw wanted to know what she was going to do and was on alert as to what it could be. Root just placed her hand on Shaw’s shoulder. She just looked at her with a small smile before stepping away, shaking her head.

“I’m going to go to bed,” Root stated, walking toward the stairs, “You might want to get Ursa and bring her upstairs when you go to sleep so she knows she’s not alone.”

Shaw watched Root walk up the stairs. Shaw decided that she should probably go to bed as well. She’d been awake for over thirty hours and she wasn’t going to be sharp for their stand in the country if she didn’t get some sleep.

She retrieved Ursa and went upstairs after making sure all the doors were locked. Her room was across the hallway from Root’s and she looked at Root’s closed door before stepping into her room. She didn’t close the door completely. She wanted to be able to hear anything that went on downstairs.

Ursa immediately jumped up on the bed and laid down in the middle of it. Shaw put her hands on her hips, “Really? It’s a million degrees and you want to cuddle?”

Ursa just groaned and closed her eyes

Shaw put a gun on her nightstand. She looked around for the bathroom and found that there was one in the hallway. She quickly completed her bedtime routine and then laid down on the bed. She stared at the slanted ceiling and looked out the window at the pitch dark night. She hated the country. She liked places with streetlights and crowds of people whose faces no one remembered. Here she stuck out like a sore thumb and couldn’t see past three feet in front of her.

When Shaw woke up, she smelled coffee. She was out of bed in a second, not wanting to lay in bed and remember the nightmares she had just tossed and turned through. Ursa was gone, leaving Shaw to believe that Root was awake already.

Shaw stretched her back and got out of the bed she didn’t take the time to look at before she fell asleep in it. She had a low appreciation of aesthetics, but the bedroom she was in looked like the decorations hadn’t changed since 1954.

There were flowers on the blankets and pillows. The walls were painted white with a flowery boarder. She grunted in disgust and moved to the bathroom.

When she made it downstairs, there was a steaming cup of coffee on the kitchen island with a croissant on the plate next to it. Shaw picking up the coffee and croissant then moved to the dining table finding that all the guns had been lined up from largest to smallest with the correct ammo next to each one. She checked all the magazines and saw that they were full. The car battery was gone as well, but when she looked outside, she saw the black Mustang parked in the dirt driveway behind her rental car.

Shaw took a sip of her coffee before tapping her earpiece, “Hey Harold. You find out who is coming after Root?”

“Unfortunately, Ms. Groves didn’t become such a prominent hacker and killer for hire without making quite a few enemies,” Harold answered. “How is she?”

“I don’t know,” Shaw answered, assembling the last gun on the table, “She’s trying to keep her distance. I’m thinking about knocking her out and bringing her back to New York.”

Harold paused, “Normally I would be against kidnapping, but under these circumstances-”

“You don’t have to knock me out,” Root’s interrupted their conversation, “She wants me back in New York. There’s a new number.”

“Who is it?” Harold asked, more interested in the number than that Root was listening in on their conversations.

“That’s not important,” Root answered. “We’ll fight our way out of here and be back in New York tomorrow.”

“Fight our way out?” Shaw asked.

Root paused, “You might want to hit the deck, Sweetie.”

Shaw looked out the window and saw a swarm of red lasers pointing in the window. She dove out of her chair as bullets started pelting the glass. None of them made it through, but with every shot the glass became weaker. Shaw reached up and grabbed one of the guns. She peeked over the top of the table and saw a team of men in black tactical uniforms converging on the house. They didn’t have any government or military markings. She could tell from their mismatched shades of black that they were all mercenaries.

“Come out the backdoor,” Root said into her ear.

“What about-” Shaw started.

She could hear the smile in Root’s voice, “I have the dog.”

Shaw grabbed as many guns as she could carry and moved to the back of the house, finding a door the lead out next to the basement door. When she opened the door, she was met with three men in black, pointing automatic rifles at her.

Three shots rang out and all of them fell down. Root was standing behind them with two handguns.

“Where’s the dog?” Shaw asked, looking around.

Root smiled, “She’s in the car.” She jerked her head to her left, “C’mon, we have to go. We only have three minutes.”

“Three minutes until what?” Shaw asked, but didn’t get an answer. She moved along the back of the house next to Root and they both popped out next to it, shooting toward the men trying to kill them.

They ran to the rental car and ducked down near the front grill. Shots riddled the car and Root looked at Shaw next to her, “I hope you got rental insurance.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and popped out from the front of the car, shooting toward the men. She kneecapped two of them and ducked back down.

Root stood up and shot while Shaw ran to the Mustang. She dove through the open window and slid into the driver’s seat. She felt something weird on her elbow and pointed her gun toward the back. Ursa kept licking the back of her arm not hindered by the gun.

Shaw huffed and found the keys in the ignition. She turned the car on and floored it toward the house. She screeched to a stop next to Root who jumped into the car. “Make a loop around the house.” Root shot out the window and then grabbed onto the handle attached to the roof of the car as Shaw swerved.

“Why are we doing this?” Shaw asked, fighting hard to control the large machine.

“We have to get them close to the house,” Root pet the dog sitting docile in the backseat.

When Shaw looked in the rearview mirror she saw three black SUVs following them. She fishtailed around the next corner and floored it, slamming it into the next gear. Shaw pointed them straight out toward the main road and shot out the window at some of the men still standing outside.

A second later, the house exploded, engulfing two of the three chasing cars in flames. The flash lit up the darkening day. Root watched her childhood home go up in flames from the passenger’s seat. She swallowed back the thick emotion swelling up her throat. She knew it was what had to happen.

Shaw continued speeding down the road with the other SUV following them. “Where am I going Root?”

“Turn left in four hundred feet,” Root explained, “There’s a private airfield. We’re going to borrow a plane.”

The SUV followed, but didn’t quite make the turn into the airfield as sharp as Shaw could and rolled off of the road into a gulley. Shaw drove down the runway to a plane that was starting up at the end of the runway. She swerved to a stop in front of it and got out of the car. She pointed a gun at a man and woman wearing pilot uniforms about to get on the plane. “Don’t move.”

Root opened the trunk of the car and got out Shaw’s duffle bag, a gun case, and her own bag. Root handed off their bags and the gun case to Shaw who boarded the plane. Root pointed her gun at the man and woman. She whistled and Ursa boarded the small jet as well.

Root smiled at the pair and glanced over her shoulder at the approaching threat, “There’s three million dollars under the passenger’s seat of the car. Take the car to New York City and leave it in the parking lot on 58th and 2nd. Then the money is yours and you can start a new life not flying drugs over the border.” She left them with a sweet smile, and started walking up the stairs to the plane. She paused at the top of them and turned back to the stunned people starting to move toward the car, “If you steal my car, I’ll blow you up.”

Shaw was standing at the door, “Please tell me you’ve practiced flying since the last time we stole one of these.”

Root walked past her and sat down in the pilot’s chair. “Sameen,” Root put on the headset and pressed the button the put the door up, “Do you _really_ want to know the answer to that.”

“Right,” Shaw sat down in the co-pilot seat. She picked up a headset.

They started taxying down the runway right toward the SUV that had been following them. Root carried on like they weren’t there and her game of chicken paid off when they swerved in order to not be run over by the jet. Root put her hands carefully on the controls and the jet was in the air. Root watched the small town of Bishop disappear underneath them.

“That was fun,” Root commented, “Just like old times.”

“Just like old times before you left without telling anyone,” Shaw looked through the window.

Root squinted her eyes and nodded. She knew she deserved that. “That was fair.”

Shaw swiveled in her chair and stood up, “Do you need me up here?”

Root shook her head, “I got it. I put some dog food in your bag. You might want to feed Ursa.”

Shaw moved to the back of the plane. There were leather couches and a two person dining table. She found Ursa pacing the back of the plane. Shaw moved to her bag and got out the plastic bag of dog food. She sat down on the couch, opening the bag trying to get Ursa to come to her. “You don’t flinch at gunfire, but you’re scared of planes?”

Ursa hopped up on the couch next to Shaw and laid down, not wanting any of the food.

When she was sure Ursa was asleep, Shaw got up and walked back to the cockpit. Root was reclined in her pilot chair with her feet in the co-pilot seat. Her laptop was on her legs and she was typing away.

Root looked up when Shaw walked into the cockpit and politely took her feet out of the co-pilot chair. Shaw stayed standing in the doorway. “Who is the number? Who’s in trouble in New York?”

Root froze completely before very slowly turning her computer toward Shaw. Shaw leaned forward and looked at the screen. The face on it was startlingly familiar. “Harold’s in trouble?”

“That’s what She says,” Root answered, looking back at her screen. She let out a sigh, “Which means that maybe whoever was coming after me, is coming after Harold.” Root bit her lip. “You’re right. As always.” She let out a smile.

Shaw knew that Root was clearly not talking to her so she walked back to the back of the plane. She went to the small refrigerator and opened it. She grabbed a few bags of mixed nuts and a bottle of water. She ripped off the tops of the bag and sat down next to the dog.

Shaw was pouring the food straight into her mouth when Root appeared at the door. She walked to her bag and pulled out some jeans. Root sat down on the couch opposite Shaw and took off her shoes.

“That was some explosion,” Shaw offered, watching Root unbutton her shorts and let them drop to the ground. “C4?”

She readjusted her dark blue panties and let the black pants in her hand unfurl. “A lot of C4.” She put the pants on one leg and then paused, “You might want to change. It’s a little cooler in New York than Texas.”

Shaw looked down at herself. She was dirty and wearing shorts and a tank top. Shaw leaned over Ursa to get to her bag. She pulled out some tactical pants. “Where are we landing?”

“A private airstrip in New Jersey,” Root answered zipping up her pants, “There’s a car picking us up and taking us to Harold.”

“Are we taking anyone else with us to Harold?” Shaw asked coolly, “Is anyone following us?”

Root shook her head, “Our flight plan is being populated with false data and then erased as soon as we leave the area. We’re fine.” Root sat down on the couch and put her shoes back on. Ursa hopped down from Shaw’s couch and sat down in front of Root. Root smiled and rubbed behind her ears, “You are not much of a guard dog, but you’re cute.” Root addressed Shaw, “You think Bear is going to play nice?”

“I don’t know,” Shaw leaned back on the couch, “You’re going to keep her?”

“I don’t know what else to do with her,” Root rubbed Ursa’s head, “I rescued her so I guess we can keep each other company.” Root yawned and looked out the window of the plane. “There’s a TV in the cabinet next to the fridge. You can watch TV or play video games.”

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Shaw countered. “It’s pretty obvious that you didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“Do I look that bad?” the hacker teased, turning to Shaw with a smile.

Shaw smiled back, “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Root grinned shyly down at the couch and then looked back at Shaw, “I bet you say that to all the girls.” She was actually really flattered that Shaw would even return her banter. She didn’t wait for Shaw to answer. She stood, walked to the back of the plane, opened a storage compartment, and removed a blanket. “I think I am going to take that nap. She wants me to do some things when we get to New York. I need to be rested.” Ursa moved back to Shaw as Root put the blanket on the couch, “Can you go sit in the pilot’s chair around midnight? There’s going to be a new military surveillance plane flying about a mile away and it needs to look like a person is flying this thing.”

“Yeah,” Shaw nodded, “No problem.”

“Thanks, Sameen,” Root laid down on the couch, facing away from Shaw and closed her eyes.

Shaw moved to the cockpit and sat down in the pilot seat. She looked out the window and watched a large city approach. The lights of the city were muted by the clouds. It was beautiful. Something that Shaw knew Root would enjoy more than her though.

She looked back into the rear of the plane and saw Root sleeping soundly on the leather couch. She couldn’t see Ursa, but she was sure the dog was asleep as well. Shaw leaned back in her chair and shook her head. It amazed her how relieved she was to have Root back. She had felt like something was missing for the past year. She always expected Root to show up, guns blazing in order to save the day. But Root never did.

Shaw made sure she was in the pilot chair from just before midnight to twelve thirty with the headset on. No one tried to contact them and she spent most of the time looking for whatever ever top secret plane the military was testing in the area. She couldn’t see it because it was dark, but she knew that if Root said it was there, it was there.

Root hummed softly around three. She stretched and got up off of the couch. She rose with a smile, the blanket falling off of her torso, pooling around her waist. Her hair had mostly fallen out of the ponytail it was in. She pulled the band out of her hair and just let it fall. “Everything okay?”

“We’re still in the air,” Shaw shrugged from her couch.

Root stood up and picked up her blanket. She gently laid it across Shaw’s leg, “Get some sleep, sweetie. We have a big day ahead of us.”

“What does that mean?” Shaw asked, pretty ready to go to sleep herself.

Root started walking to the back of the plane where the lavatory was. She paused and looked over her shoulder with a smile, “I don’t know yet.”

“Of course not,” Shaw huffed and laid down on her couch with Ursa laying in a big furry ball at her feet.

Shaw woke up to the sound of Root’s voice, “…requesting permission to land.” Shaw heard a soft ding and looked up. There was a light on the wall at lit up saying, “Please Fasten Seatbelts.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and stood up. She went to the lavatory.

After they landed, Root taxied them into a hangar where a black town car was waiting. Root opened the door to the plane, letting the stairs lay themselves out in front of her. She walked down the stairs with her bag in hand.

“Miss me?” Root smiled as the driver got out of the car.

“Like a cold sore,” Fusco folded his hands in front of himself. He smiled though, signaling that he had missed her- but not too much.

Shaw emerged from the plane with Ursa behind her and Fusco shook his head, “Look at that. Shaw found another friend.”

“Don’t get jealous Fusco,” Shaw smirked. She closed the ramp of the plane and looked at Shaw, “What are we doing with that?”

“The DEA will be here in seven minutes to recover it,” Root opened the back seat car door for Shaw. When she saw the disappointed look at Shaw’s face she grinned, “Sorry. I used all the C4 on the house.”

Shaw and Ursa got into the car. Root closed them in and walked to the other side of the car.

Halfway through the traffic on the turnpike, Root opened her door. She stepped out and closed the door, disappearing through a service door.

“Root?” Shaw asked in her ear, “Where the hell are you going?”

“She gave me a mission,” Root answered, “Go to Harold. I’ll be there are soon as I can.”

Shaw sighed and looked out the window as they started moving again.


	3. set RHOSTS

Harold was surprised at the appearance of another dog, but after Bear and Ursa sniffed each other, they shared Bear’s bed and went to sleep.

“Where is Ms. Groves?” Harold asked, looking behind Shaw for the hacker.

Shaw put her hands in her pockets, “The Machine told her to get out of the car on the turnpike. She’s doing whatever she does.”

“But she’s okay?” Harold asked, genuinely concerned.

Shaw nodded. “She’s fine.”

Harold nodded, “Good.” He turned to his computer and poised his fingers over the keyboard. “I guess there’s really no point in trying to figure out who is after me.”

“If they’re the same as the ones after Root, they’re mercenaries,” Shaw explained, “They assaulted the house. Root took out two teams of them and we lost a third at the airport.”

“That might narrow it down,” Harold started typing again. “Although not very narrowly. Perhaps, while you’re waiting for Ms. Groves to return, you could assist Mr. Reese in Chelsea.”

Shaw looked around their hideout. She’d been expecting Root to pop up out of nowhere, but it was apparent she wasn’t going to anytime soon. “Yeah, might as well.”

The number took Shaw into New Jersey where she met up with Reese. They snuck into a pharmaceutical plant and joined a convoy of trucks that were heading west. After an ambush on the trucks to steal eight tons of pills, Shaw and Reese neutralized the threat and sent the trucks on their way. They stopped for lunch in a small town and then called a cab to take them back to New York.

Shaw swung by the hideout again to see if Root had shown up, but she found Harold and Bear alone. Finally as it was getting dark, Shaw left. She walked the streets, on the lookout for anything. She grabbed some dinner and just happened to stop a mugging in progress.

She was running low on ammo and probably needed to get some decent sleep so she made her way to her own little safe house, her apartment.

However the second she stepped foot on her floor, Shaw knew something was wrong. She pulled out her gun and opened the door to her apartment. It was wide open so there was nowhere to hide for whoever had broken in. It took one quick sweep of the room to find who was out of place.

Root was standing at the window looking out over the city. “You know,” she started, “There are just some views that you can’t get in the middle of the dessert.”

Shaw put her gun away and closed the door, “You know, someday I’m going to shoot you if you keep sneaking up on me.”

Root turned toward Shaw with a smile, “But sneaking up on you is so much fun.” She pulled a small baggie out of her pocket, “I brought you something.”

Shaw took the baggie and looked at it. It was a baggie that contained a magazine full of bullets, “Thanks. These are hard to find,” She tossed it onto her nightstand. “How’d your mission go?”

“I saved a nurse from getting pushed off of the top of New York Gen,” Root looked back out over the city, “How’s Harold?”

“He’s nervous and twitchy,” Shaw answered, “Reese is going to stay with him tonight. Fusco is camping out in his car on the street.” Shaw shrugged. She stepped up next to Root and looked out the window. “Where are you staying?”

Root shrugged, “A hotel I guess. I never had much of an apartment before I left anyway.” She picked up a duffel bag off of the floor and put it over her shoulder on the way to the door.

“You can stay here,” Shaw stated, not knowing what would end up happening, but knowing that she wanted Root around.

Root smiled and looked at Shaw, “You don’t…I don’t want you doing something that would make you uncomfortable to make me happy.” She touched Shaw’s hand for a second before dropping it. “She can get me a room.”

“It wouldn’t make me uncomfortable,” Shaw shook her head. She looked at her bed, “You can stay. I want you to.”

Root’s smile faded to a tight, but very appreciative grin, “Thank you, Sameen.” She crossed her arms and pivoted one arm up to scratch behind her ear. “Can I-” She gestured to the back of the apartment. “Use the bathroom?”

Shaw nodded, “Yeah.”

Root walked to the bathroom in the back of the apartment and Shaw started moving as well. She moved to the bed in the middle of the apartment and straightened out the sheets. She was trying to remember the last time she changed them. She always took a shower before bed, but her line of work didn’t leave much brain or body power at the end of the day for basic housekeeping.

Shaw went to her bare kitchen and got some water, the only non-alcoholic thing in her apartment. She drank all of it and put the glass in the sink to be washed later.

Root walked back into the main room and moved straight to the bed. Root placed a gun on the nightstand and laid down. Shaw stayed near the sink while Root got into the bed and then joined her, placing her gun between the bedframe and mattress.

Root wanted to say something, but she knew that sleeping in Shaw’s bed was a really intimate gesture for Shaw. She just closed her eyes, content knowing that Shaw was letting her stay.

“Is Harold okay?” Root asked facing away from Shaw.

Shaw knew that Root wasn’t talking to her. She just listened. Root paused before adding, “She says Harold is okay right now.” Root pushed her head into the pillow and inhaled deeply. “Goodnight Sameen.”

“Goodnight, Root,” Shaw answered.

=+=+=

“Root,” was what woke up the Machine analog.

She slowly opened her eyes and saw Shaw standing over her. She let out a smile, “Is this the part where you tase me?”

“No,” Shaw rolled her eyes and put some coffee down on the nightstand, “Harold thinks he has something.”

Root rolled into the middle of the bed and stretched. “Nice bed.” She sat up and adjusted her shirt. She got up out of the bed, picked up her coffee, and stepped into the bathroom. She emerged looking fresh and changed into new clothes.

“I think we should get some kolaches on the way in,” Root pulled on a hat and opened the door, “There’s a Czech bakery around the corner.”

Shaw knew something was up, but she went with it anyway. She pulled on her coat and picked up her coffee. “Lead the way.”

As they walked along the sidewalk, Root smiled brightly. It was partially because of the beautiful sunny, albeit cold day. It was also partially because she was spending the morning with her favorite person. It was also because she was about to save someone’s life and she got to shoot someone in the process.

Root turned into the bakery and walked past all the customers inside, around the counter, and into the back of the store. The man behind the counter started walking after them. It didn’t deter Root’s stroll into the back. She kicked open a storage room door, coffee in one hand, suppressed gun in the other, and found three men with guns all surrounding a man tied to a chair with a gag over his mouth.

Root shot two of the men in the kneecap. She plucked Shaw’s coffee out of her hand so that Shaw could knock the third one out. When Shaw got her coffee back, Root untied the man and walked out of the storage room, leaving him to decide how to leave. She walked back into the front of the restaurant with Shaw walking casually behind her. She picked up two kolaches from behind the counter and then handed one to the man waiting on the other side of the counter. The owner stood at the door to the back of the restaurant dumbfounded.

Root smiled at him as she walked out, “Děkuji.”

She handed the second kolache to Shaw and took a bite of hers, “They’re so much better warm.”

Shaw smiled taking a bite of it as they walked. Root is definitely someone she could spend a lot of mornings with. She got to hit someone, she got food, she got to watch Root shoot people, Root didn’t wake her up early. It was the best way to start the day.

When they got to the Subway station, Root took Shaw’s empty coffee cup and tossed it into the trash with her own. “Good morning Harold.”

“Ms. Groves,” Harold didn’t look away from the computer to address them, “Ms. Shaw.”

“You can get out of here John,” Shaw told her field partner.

He rubbed his eyes, “I’m fine.”

“At least take a nap Mr. Reese,” Harold gestured to the small bed on the platform.

Bear and Ursa trotted over to Shaw who knelt down to greet them.

Root smiled warmly, watching Shaw with her two best friends. However her pause was short lived. She cocked her head, listening to a voice that only she could hear. She took off walking down the subway tunnel without another word.

“Ms. Groves?” Harold called.

“626 10th Ave.” She called back, not stopping her walk, “Twelve seventeen fifty-six,” She disappeared into the dark adding one last thing. “Top floor.”

Reese looked at Shaw who shrugged. She didn’t know what to make of Root’s relationship with The Machine any more than he did. They were slowly able to accept it, but no one really understood it.

Everyone hung around for an hour, cleaning guns, restocking ammo, and catching cat naps before Harold got a number. He sent Reese out to see what he could find. Shaw insisted on staying with Harold because his incident hadn’t occurred. She was playing fetch with Bear when heels came clicking down the subway again.

Root walked toward them with a smile and a gas mask. She was swinging the gas mask by one finger, “We have to evacuate.”

“Ms. Groves,” Harold stood from his computer, “Why?”

“There’s going to be a gas leak that is going to be directed down this abandoned tunnel,” Root explained. “It is going to ignite and blow this whole place to hell.” She gestured around.

Bear and Ursa started whimpering and moving away from the subway entrance.

Harold started moving to his computer, but Root closed the laptop, unplugged it, and handed it to him, “I’ll get the hard drives. You get out of here.”

Harold nodded and started making his way up the stairs. Root hooked the gas mask on the back of her head and let it rest there while she started unplugging things.

“What do you need me to do?” Shaw appeared at Root’s side.

“Get Harold out of here,” Root replied, not looking at Shaw. She pulled open the case on the computer and picked up a screwdriver. “Go to the address I told you earlier. I set up a new safe house in a shadow area.” Root pulled the gas mask over her face, “You better hurry, Sweetie. Harold is going to fall down the stairs in eight seconds.”

Shaw made a sprint for the stairs. Root walked after her and stood at the bottom of the stairs. She pulled out her gun and waited for Shaw to reach the top of the stairs. When Shaw was at the top, she realized that Harold was already out of the subway and hadn’t fallen.

Root shot at the metal gate hanging at the entrance of the platform. After two shots it fell shut a few inches from Shaw. Root tucked the gun into the back of her pants and moved back to the computer.

Shaw kicked at the grate between her and Root before running the rest of the way up the stairs.

Harold was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, “Where’s Ms. Groves?”

“Trying to get herself killed,” Shaw answered. She picked up Ursa’s leash, “She set up another safe house.”

“The address she rambled on earlier,” Harold answered. He was quickly walking away. “We need to hurry, Ms. Shaw. If the subway fills with gas, the explosion is going to be massive.”

“Is there another way out of the subway?” Shaw asked, looking behind herself.

Harold nodded, “There are many other ways out. Air ducts, maintenance shafts. There are any number of ways out for a person of Ms. Groves’ size.” He glanced behind them and flagged down a cab.

They got to the safe house by entering the code Root told them on a panel inside the back door of the building. The panel unlocked a door that revealed stairs leading up. Three stories later, they were in a large open space. It was a top floor office building with no walls and a wall of windows facing the street. In the middle of the room there were three tables set up with new computers and monitors. There was a separate bank of security camera monitors. All the cameras they were pointing down the streets, in the stair well, and the alley.

Against the wall farthest from the stairs, there was a queen sized bed with no headboard or footboard. Next to the bed, there were two dog beds on the floor and a small bank of water and dog food. On the wall that the stairs were on, a perfect replication of Harold’s library system stood in shelves. A couch faced the library.

Shaw walked to the window and knocked on it. “Bulletproof.” She looked out the window. She blinked and then an explosion rocked the city. She looked down at her watch. It had been nine minutes. That was more than enough time for Root to get out. At least that was what she hoped.

Fire trucks and police cars started roaring down the streets toward the blaze.

The door to the loft opened and Reese stepped in. He looked around, “Nice place.”

“Ms. Groves arranged it for us,” Harold sat down at the desk and plugged in his laptop, eager to see if he could find Root in some surveillance footage somewhere.

Ursa and Bear trotted over to the beds together. Ursa started eating while Bear laid down in one of the beds.

Shaw lingered at the windows looking down the street. Her eyes bounced from face to face, looking for sharp eyes and wavy hair.

“Are you looking for me?” Root asked in Shaw’s ear.

Shaw looked around although she knew it was useless. The door to the loft opened and Root walked in, almost completely covered in soot, but grinning like a Cheshire cat. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two hard drives. “Harold.”

“You smell like a burnt falafel,” Reese commented.

Root took off her coat as the dogs came running toward her, “I had to crawl out of the floor of a Middle Eastern restaurant after the roof of the maintenance tunnel I was in collapsed.”

“And you didn’t bring lunch?” Shaw asked, slowly moving toward Root.

Root grinned knowing that Shaw cared about what happened to her. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small foil covered log. “The burnt smell is me. Here’s the falafel.”

Shaw finally smiled when Root handed her the food. Root moved toward the beds and pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed. She rooted through it and pulled out a shirt and some pants. “Anyone mind if I shower?”

Harold stumbled over words that were meant to convey nonchalance. Reese moved to the couch and sat down, not even acknowledging the question. Shaw took another bite of her falafel and shrugged.

Root went to a door near the stairs and slipped inside. She closed the door and a second later, the shower starting could be heard through the loft.

“How safe is this place?” Reese asked.

“Bulletproof glass,” Shaw answered with a mouthful, “Keypad access, steel panic doors.” She gestured to the door of the loft that would seal shut in half a second.

“There’s also a small, really fun cache of weapons under the bed,” Root added in Shaw’s ear.

Shaw rolled her eyes at the fact that Root was listening from the shower. But fun weapons was the best way to distract Shaw. She walked to the bed and got down on her hands and knees. “You sure know the way to a girl’s heart, Root.” She pulled out six hard gun cases stacked on top of each other and one very long one.

Shaw opened the long case first and whistled, “Russian RPG-29. Very nice.”

The weapons got Reese’s attention. He and Shaw went through all of the weapons that Root had acquired during her short time back in New York.

Root emerged from the shower, clean and dressed. She tossed her clothes into the trashcan in the bathroom and walked out, “Now that I smell less like a food truck on fire-” She stopped abruptly. Root listened for a moment before turning on her heel, “John, you wanna grab a sniper rifle and come with me?”

Reese picked up the nearest sniper rifle case and stood up, “Where are we going?”

Root quirked an eyebrow.

“Right. You won’t know until we get there,” he put the sniper rifle case in Root’s duffel bag and put it over his shoulder. They walked out together, closing the door with a solid thud.

“Can I have a number, Harold?” Shaw asked, looking over the assortment of guns on the bed, “Any number? I want to try these bad boys out.”

Harold looked at Shaw, “Not at the moment.” He was installing the hard drives into the new cases. He looked back down at his work. He commented, “It does seem that The Machine is keeping Ms. Groves quite busy.”

“It’s been keeping her busy this past year,” Shaw lugged one of the gun cases to the tables in the middle of the room. “Do you think it has something to do with yours and her numbers?”

Harold inhaled deeply, “I’m not sure.”

 


	4. show options

A few hours ticked by. Shaw disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled all of the guns by the time Reese returned. He was flanked by Fusco. “Nice place,” the detective looked around. He was carrying a plastic bag which he dropped off on Harold’s desk, “Dinner, courtesy of Cuckoo’s Nest.”

“Where is Root?” Shaw asked, kicking most of the guns back under the bed.

Reese dropped his coat on the couch, “She suggested that you take the dogs on a walk.”

“She did huh?” Shaw looked at Ursa and Bear. “Walk?”

Bear looked excited and Ursa was excited because Bear was excited. They both retrieved their own leashes from the couch. Once they were hooked up, Shaw took the dogs downstairs.

Root was waiting for her in the alley. She had her hands in her pockets and gave Shaw a tentative smile. “Hey Sam.”

“Am I not a good enough sniper for you anymore Root?” Shaw asked, walking past Root through the alley.

Root easily caught up and held out her hand for one of the leashes. Shaw handed over Ursa.

When Root didn’t answer, Shaw asked, “Why did you want to go for a walk?”

Root exhaled softly, her crystallized breath disappearing into the air, “I’m not sure.”

“Is this a number?” Shaw slipped her fingers in her pocket around the grip of her handgun, her eyes looking for a Samaritan operative or something remotely dangerous.

“No,” Root shook her head, “I needed to clear my head. I thought Bear might want to come and since you two are inseparable...” She wanted Shaw with her because it usually gave her some kind of clarity. She had so many questions floating around in her head that ranged from what was between them to how are they going to stop Samaritan.

They walked for quite a while in silence. Shaw’s mind was still on the fact that The Machine sending Root’s number once a day seemed more urgent than just a ragtag tactical team in the middle of nowhere. She was keenly aware of everything going on around them because she was sure someone was still after Root.

“There’s a guy in a suit and hat that’s been watching us,” Shaw stated. “Ten o’clock.”

Root’s eyes flashed in the direction Shaw told her. She noticed the man as well. “Anyone else with him?”

Shaw didn’t answer because she knew the voice in Root’s ear would know better than she did. Root turned them down a different, less crowded street. “She doesn’t see anyone else with him.” Root kept her eyes forward, “But he’s definitely following us. His hat is blocking his face.”

Shaw grabbed Root and pulled her into a small alley between two row houses. She told the dogs to sit and handed the leash she was holding to Root.

Then Shaw grabbed the man as he walked by and slammed his against the bricks, knocking his hat off, “Why are you following us?”

“Whoa, hey,” he put his hands up. “I just wanted to offer you a job.”

“Job?” Shaw frowned harder.

He slowly reached into his coat pocket while both women had their hands on their guns. However all he pulled out with a small pink card. He showed it to Shaw. She let go of his jacket after she read it. “Beat it.”

“Think about it,” he told her quickly, but was too scared to stay.

Root quirked an eyebrow waiting for Shaw to explain. Then the Machine told her who the man was and she chuckled, “He’s a modeling agent for an adult entertainment company.” Root laughed, “He wanted you to model for him, Sameen.”

“He wanted both of us,” Shaw couldn’t suppress a grin and took Bear’s leash back.

Root slyly smiled, “It would have been fun though. Red silk sheets, lingerie...”

Shaw quirked an eyebrow. She let out a smile, “There is the Root that I know.”

Root took her turn to roll her eyes, but smiled. She shook her head and started walking down the street. “You can’t tell me that you miss the innuendos.”

“I kinda do,” Shaw confessed. “It’s how I knew things were going to be okay.” Shaw watched Bear sniff the ground as they walked, “Now when they stop…I know something is wrong.”

Root inhaled softly, “I don’t think anything is wrong. It just hasn’t been right for a while.”

“That is because you were living in the middle of nowhere,” Shaw answered, watching the street around them. “Operating on your own.” Shaw shook her head, “It’s hard on your own.”

“I’ve always been on my own,” Root ducked into a parking garage. She and Ursa led the way down the stair well. Bear and Shaw followed closely behind.

“What about The Machine?” Shaw asked, “It’s always in your ear.”

Root ducked her head as they walked. She looked like she was sad all of the sudden. Then she looked back at Shaw. “I guess I’m never alone then.”

Shaw narrowed her eyes at Root trying to figure out exactly what was going on with her. That was until Root pushed open the door to the bottom level of the parking garage. There were few cars, but one car in particular caught Shaw’s eye. She smiled. “The Mustang.”

They walked to the car and Root walked all the way around it, “They got it here in one piece. No scratches.”

“You did threaten to blow them up,” Shaw added, opening the driver’s door. Bear hopped into the car followed by Ursa.

Root got into the passenger’s seat. She felt under the seat and her hand hit a small metal box. She pulled it out and opened the box. There was only a small white piece of paper inside. “Aww, they don’t usually leave thank you notes.”

Shaw turned the car on and felt the car roar under her. She smiled a euphoric smile. Root saw it and smiled herself. She loved seeing Shaw whatever variation of happy that she felt. “There’s another present for you in the trunk.”

Shaw looked at Root, “The sniper rifle?”

Root just widened her eyes and her smile. “Maybe.”

Shaw put the car in reverse, “Does the car come with the rifle?”

“Sure,” Root shrugged, “I don’t need it anymore. It’s finished. I don't think I'll have time for a new project anytime soon.” She looked out the window and tapped her lip.

At the next intersection, Root reached for the door handle and pulled, but the locks clicked into place a second before she could get the door open.

Root dropped her head, “Sameen.”

“Is it really a number?” Shaw asked, not moving when the light turned green.

Root tucked some hair behind her ear, “I don’t know.”

“We’ll drop the dogs off,” Shaw took off. “And I’ll come with you.”

Root knew that there was really no way to shake Shaw so she agreed. That’s how they found themselves in Brighton Beach at a shady bar. Root greeted the bouncer in perfect Russian and they were escorted to a stairwell that lead down into the earth.

When they were alone, Shaw asked, “You speak Russian?”

“Russians won’t buy zero-day exploits from you if you don’t speak Russian,” Root stated and continued to walk down the stairs. She started to mess up her hair as they walked. She made her shirt crooked and stopped in front of the door, “Grab my arm.”

“What?” Shaw asked.

Root stumbled and fell into the door, throwing it open. Shaw grabbed her arm to keep Root on her feet. A room full of large less than savory men all well armed looked at them, a few with their fingers on the trigger. Root laughed loudly and explained in loud Russian that she was wasted and thought this was the bathroom. Then her face turned putrid. She covered her mouth and ran for the back of the room. A door slammed and everyone looked at Shaw. She shrugged made an annoyed motion with her hand and huffed, pretending to be irritated. She walked after Root.

No one walked after Shaw. Apparently drunk girls who spoke Russian and were probably puking in the broom closet were not as interesting as the drinking and gambling they were doing with the women around them.

Shaw found Root in the back room of the basement, riffling through boxes. Shaw walked over to help, “What are we looking for?”

“Something to clear the building,” Root picked up a box and turned it over. A bunch of bottles clattered to the ground and broke open. She put her sleeve over her mouth, “Oh my god.”

Shaw looked around and spotted an extension cord. She smiled wickedly and pulled out a knife.

A few minutes later they were standing outside of the smoking building. A woman with a gun in her hand ran out of the smoking stairwell. She started running in one direction, but Shaw grabbed her arm, swung her in the other direction and took her gun, “Now's your chance. Get out of the country..”

The girl just stared at Shaw as more mobsters ran out of the stairwell. Then she took off running in the direction Shaw set her off in.

Shaw turned around and saw Root leaning back on an adjacent building. “It looks like I’m going to need another shower,” Root put her hands in her pockets and grinned.

Shaw grabbed fistfuls of Root’s shirt and pulled her down for a kiss. It was a hungry kiss, pushing Root hard into the brick wall behind her. Root was taken by surprise, again, but didn't hesitate to kiss back. She remembered that last time Shaw kissed her and she was too stunned to savor it. That was not a mistake she was going to make again. They took their time in the alley before Shaw pulled Root out of it and toward the car.

Root was the first one in the car and when they got to Shaw’s apartment, she was the first one to shed clothes and the first one whose back hit the bed. Shaw crawled on top of her and immediately started dropping kissed down Root's neck.

Root ran her hands up Shaw’s sides, feeling the bumps from the scars that shaped Sameen Shaw into who she was. She pulled Shaw down hard on top of herself. She wanted a four alarm fire in an oil refinery and she was going to drop the match.

Shaw slipped out of bed in the middle of the night to get some water. That was the thing about a four alarm fires – they’re dehydrating. Root was still asleep in the bed, not moving a muscle when Shaw’s warmth disappeared.

Shaw put her glass on the nightstand when she had drained half of it and stood there looking at Root. Root had quite a few surprises up her sleeve that Shaw wasn’t expecting, but it was a nice surprise. A really nice surprise. Multiple nice surprises.

Root was on her side, facing away from Shaw, the sheets exposing her bare back. Shaw watched her back expand in slow, deep breaths. She watched Root like she’d never seen her before. Root was almost constantly in motion. It was hard to pin her down even when they were in the same room.

Seeing Root still was definitely a change. But it was a pleasant change.

Shaw laid down on her side of the bed and closed her eyes. If the volume was turned way down on her feelings then what she felt for Root would be deafening if the volume was normal.

Banging startled both women awake. They both had guns in their hands before their eyes were completely open. Shaw had her arm over Root pointing her gun at the door. Root was on her side, two guns at the door.

Then Root fell back onto her back with a sigh, “It’s Lionel.” She rested her guns on her stomach and looked over at Shaw.

Shaw huffed and fell back onto the bed. She put her arm over her eyes and called, “Go away Lionel.”

“And Bear,” Root added rolling onto her side and closing her eyes.

Shaw got up out of the bed, picking up a shirt and some pants off of the floor on the way. She heaved open the door and dropped to her knees immediately being greeted by licks to the face. She smiled, “Hey Bear.”

“What am I?” Fusco asked, stepping into the apartment, “Chopped liver?”

“Where’s Ursa?” Shaw asked, ignoring his question.

Bear ran off deeper into the apartment. Fusco handed Shaw a folder, “John took her for a checkup at the vet who happens to have a hit on her. John wants you to pick up Cocoa Puffs and check out the vet’s husband who owns a custom software start up in Brooklyn which we think is a front for a stolen electronics ring.”

A giggle alerted Fusco to the presence of Cocoa Puffs. Shaw and Fusco both looked to the bed where Bear was licking Root’s face. She finally rubbed his head and scratched behind his ears. “Hey Bear.”

“You know what?” Fusco looked everywhere but the naked Root in the bed, “I gotta get to work.”

“Don’t forget to pick up your dry cleaning Lionel,” Root called from the bed.

Lionel started to reply, but was so frustrated with Root and embarrassed at the same time, he just left.

“Do you want to take a shower first or shall I?” Root asked not moving from the bed. She wasn’t facing Shaw so Shaw couldn’t see the expression on her face.

Shaw shrugged, “You can.” She closed the folder and dropped it down on the nightstand.

Root rose from the bed, modestly holding a sheet around herself as she moved. She ducked into the bathroom without another word and closed the door.

Shaw took her place on the bed and rubbed Bear until he was content. By that time, Root was out of the shower and walked out in a towel. “I’ll head to the store. There are security cameras so I’ll distract the husband while you sneak in and see if that is where the money laundering operation really is. There are usually around five guy hanging around in the storage space over the office.” Root moved to the pile of clothes on the floor. She found the pants that belonged to her and pulled them on under the towel. Then she took the towel back to bathroom and emerged wearing jeans and a bra.

Shaw sat up on the bed and watched Root walked toward her with a smile on her face. “What?”

“You’re wearing my shirt,” Root answered, thoroughly enjoying seeing Shaw in her clothes.

Shaw looked down and realized that it was in fact Root’s shirt. “There are clean ones in the closet.”

Root looked absently toward the corner of the room where the closet was. She wandered to it and when she opened it, it smiled. “Black is really not my color, Shaw.” But she grabbed a black shirt anyway and put it on.

Then she moved to the bed and picked up her two guns that were laying behind Shaw. She tucked them into the back of her pants and then picked up her jacket off of the floor, “See you later.” Then she left.

Shaw expected it to be different. She expected Root to want to stay in bed, maybe go another round before going back to work. Shaw looked at Bear. Then she smiled and scratched his head. She couldn’t feel much, but she was fond of two dogs and a human analog.

Shaw was at a back of the electronic store in no time. She dropped off Bear with Harold who had apparently heard of hers and Root’s escapades and couldn’t really look her in the eye.

With her hood up, Shaw walked to the alley behind the store and heard Root in her ear, “There’s a guard at the backdoor disguised as a homeless man. You can tell him the password which is-”

Shaw walked past the man dressed like he was homeless and kicked him in the head once, knocking him out. Then she searched his pockets. She found a handgun and a wad of cash. She pocketed the cash and took the magazine out of the gun, put it in her jacket pocket, then emptied the chamber. She tossed the gun down on top of the unconscious man and moved to the door.

Shaw opened the door and stepped inside. Stairs to her right led up to the second level and to her left was a hallway that undoubtedly lead to the front. Shaw ascended the stairs and took out all of the men there. Root informed her that things didn’t go well with the owner so he was locked in the downstairs closet with a gunshot wound in his knee and the police were on the way. Shaw made sure that the police were going to find the money that was to be laundered and then made herself scarce.

Shaw didn’t hear from Root after that. She knew Root was okay and was just going to go about her daily business until she was called upon again. She went across town to join Reese to protect the wife.

Root found herself in the park sitting at a chess table. The Machine told her to sit down and arrange the chess pieces in a certain pattern. It wasn’t consistent with the rules of chess, but after a moment she could see what the Machine was telling her.

“Harold and Greer,” Root put her hands on the two Kings on the board. “Harold the white king and Greer the black king.” Then she pointed to the Rook, “Lionel, immensely helpful in certain situations, but limited in his abilities because of his job.” Root picked up two knights, one white and one black. She grinned, “John the white knight and Sameen the black knight.” She put them back in their places and picked up the queen, “You’re the queen. Powerful and…,” Root blinked. She put the queen back down in its place, “I’m the queen.” She looked harder at the board, “So you’re…the hand. The hand the moves the pieces.”

Root ducked her head and got a better look at the board. She wasn’t a Grand Master, but she knew the rules of the game. She slowly started moving the pieces. Fusco first, clearing a path through the Decima and Samaritan pieces. Then Reese and Shaw moved through, taking out more. Finally she picked up the queen, who had a straight shot to the black king. She started moving her piece forward when she heard something in her ear. She stopped her piece on a black square, two squares away from the king.

Root could see that there were five Decima and Samaritan pieces that could take out her queen. She licked her lips and did as she was told, moving her knights. Finally she moved the Queen, taking down the black king. Then she swallowed, moving the rival queen to knock herself down.

Root backed up a few moves, resetting the pieces. The Machine told her to move her Queen straight at the King. She took it out and then the knights were fiercely outnumbered and the white King could be taken easily.

“So what is this?” Root asked, “This is the plan?” Things had died down with Samaritan. There was a reprieve of sorts after a nasty virus and some well places explosives took out half of the local Samaritan servers. She wasn’t sure what The Machine was trying to tell her. She paused to listen. She reset the pieces once again and looked at them. The five mismatched pieces on the board. Lionel the Rook, Reese the white knight, Shaw the black knight, Harold the king, and Root the queen.

Before she could hear anything, any kind of explanation, a number rang out in her head.

Root slowly stood from the table and looked at the pieces. She picked up a few of them and put them in her pocket before walking off.

Harold walked into the safe house after visiting his cover apartment to change and freshen up. He found Root sitting at the desk. Her laptop was plugged into the screens.

“Good evening Ms. Groves,” he announced his presence. He’d been stopped at gunpoint enough time to know that sneaking up on professional killers was not something that he wanted to do.

“Hey Harold,” Root absently replied. She didn’t take her eyes away from the screens. Her hair was up in a messy bun that was falling everywhere, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Harold moved to stand behind her, wondering what she was doing. He squinted at the screens, all running multiple different scripts, searches, and programs. On her laptop Root was coding as fast as her fingers could move.

“Is that a -“ Harold started looking at the screens.

Root paused, “I’m running simulations for every kind of virus and worm I can think of.” She looked up at the screen and put her hands on top of her head. She looked at one of the screens and watched the letters and numbers fly by. She tucked her stray hair behind her ear and started typing again, “There’s got to be some way to take out Samaritan. Some kind of exploit somewhere.”

Harold spotted the chess pieces on the table. He looked them over and knew what they represented. He turned back to the screens. “Why the sudden interested in attacking Samaritan, Ms. Groves?”

Root rubbed her eyes and went back to coding, “It’s been quiet for too long. There's rumblings in the distance.”

Harold looked around and spotted another chair in the corner. Reese had been sitting in it, watching out the window always vigilant. He picked it up and brought it back to the desk where he picked up his keyboard. “You don’t think it’s futile to try and find an exploit in a machine that can recode itself to patch flaws that it finds? That it is always looking for?”

“I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” Root paused her fingers. “We’re outnumbered. We have Her, but it’s easier to win the game if you have more pieces. We cripple the brain or we take out the pieces. This is what I can do right now. Even if we can slow down Samaritan a little bit, we might have an equal playing field.”

Harold nodded. He got to work next to Root, typing away and sharing the screens.

After a while Harold paused, he looked away from the screen and stated, “Knock, knock.”

Root looked up, confused but asked back, “Who’s there?”

Harold looked back down at his keyboard and typed a few lines before replying, quiet for a moment. Then he looked back at Harold, “Java.”

Root’s confusion grew to a smile which moved to a full on laugh. Harold joined her with a quieter chuckle. When she was done, she touched Harold’s shoulder, “Thank you, Harry. I needed that.”

“I have missed your smile,” Harold confessed. “Mr. Reese and Ms. Shaw aren’t as expressive as you are. It’s nice to have that tiny bit of sunshine.”

“I missed you too,” Root took her hand off of Harold’s shoulder. She gave him a fond smile and then turned back to her work.

 


	5. set payload

They worked for another hour before Root spoke up, “I can hear you.” She paused. Then she quickly closed her laptop and stood.

“What is it?” Harold asked, standing as well.

Root picked up her coat and put her guns in the back of her pants, “Reese and Shaw are in trouble.”

Harold sent out a call to Reese, but couldn’t get him. He tried Shaw with the same result.

Root was out the door before Harold could tell her. She ‘borrowed’ a motorcycle and weaved in and out of traffic toward Harlem.

“Do you ever feel like you’re being tailed?” Shaw asked as she and Reese walked away from a saved number.

Reese took his phone out of his pocket “Do you ever feel like your signal is being jammed?” He paused, “You bring your sat phone?”

“Nope. I’m guessing you didn’t either. There’s more coming from the foot bridge,” Shaw quietly told Reese. She didn’t move her head when she looked around. “Pretty brazen of them coming out in the open.”

Reese looked around and saw more people who weren’t involved in the AI war. He looked down the dark street and saw cars coming both ways. “We have to get out of the open. There are people out here.”

“There’s a warehouse across the street,” Shaw stated, “Looks to be under construction.”

They agreed and dodged cars, running across the street. Shaw kicked in the boarded up door and they ran inside, finding it empty. They barely got cover before the firing started.

“You know with all the help that we usually have,” Shaw put both of her hands on her gun, “This takes me back. No all seeing eye. Just a good old fashioned fire fight.” She smiled and popped out of their cover of a wooden crate to shoot back.

Reese smiled at Shaw’s idea of a good time. Well he smiled as much as he could. Then he popped up as well. A shot grazed his shoulder as they fell back down.

“He bleeds,” Shaw commented, seeing the blood start to come out of Reese’s shirt.

“I just got this shirt,” he took off his suit jacket and tossed it to the side.

Shaw took out a few by peeking around the corner. She could hear them moving closer. She popped out and took out a few operatives. She pulled the magazine out and looked to see how many bullets she had left. “They jumped us after a number. It can’t be a coincidence.”

Reese popped up over the crate and squeezed off a few shots. “I’m running low,” he sunk back down behind the crate.

Shaw looked around and spotted some things that might make good hand to hand weapons. She just needed to lure some of the operatives to the corner. Shaw looked at Reese who was peeking around the corner. She took off sprinting for the corner and slid behind a forklift. She fired back until her gun was empty and then tossed it aside, picking up a piece of pipe.

The clinking of a grenade skittered to a stop next to her. She was about to kick it away when she saw it was a smoke bomb. She kicked it a little ways away and waited for footsteps. There was a crash across the warehouse and more gunfire. The footsteps grew closer.

Shaw stood up straight and hit one of the operatives with the pipe, knocking him out. Another one pointed a gun at her in the smoke and she pushed the gun away from herself as the gun fired. She punched the man and kneed him in the stomach, taking the gun from his hand.

Another operative grabbed Shaw from behind. She turned the gun down and shot the operative in her foot. The operative recoiled and Shaw elbowed her in the face, knocking her out.

Shaw saw a lump in the woman’s pocket. She bent down and dug in the pocket pulling out a small electronic device. It was black with a red light on top. Shaw knew what it was. She dropped it on the ground and smashed it with the pipe. Her earpiece beeped and she tapped it, “John, you okay?”

“Still standing,” he answered, “There’s a sniper on the fire escape.” There was a pause, “Root?”

“I couldn’t let you have a party without me,” Root said into Reese and Shaw’s ears.

Shaw looked up toward the broken windows by the fire escape, but couldn’t see out of the smoke.

“I think you two have it from here,” Root added. She dropped from the fire escape with the rifle over her back and mounted her borrowed motorcycle. “Lionel needs some assistance.”

When she got to Lionel, he was being threatened by a mobster in an alley behind a crime scene. “FBI,” she stated walking up to them, flashing her badge, “Is there a problem here?”

“Who are- ”

The mobster didn’t get very far. She tased him in the neck and he crumpled up on the ground.

“Nice to see you again Lionel,” Root smiled and turned on her heel, walking off.

When she returned to the safe house, Root found Harold still scouring the viruses for a viable one, Reese sitting in a chair by the windows, and Shaw scarfing down a gyro.

Root walked straight to the desk and sat down next to Harold, “Anything?”

“Not at the moment,” Harold answered. “How is Detective Fusco?”

“Alive,” Root took off her jacket and set it over the back of the chair. Ursa trotted over to greet her and Bear got jealous so he ran over to Root as well. She pet both of them with a smile on her face. “Hey guys.”

“I think I’m going to head home,” Reese stood up. Ursa walked over to him and sat at his feet, waiting for him to move, “You mind if I take her?”

Root shook her head. “Go ahead.”

“Goodnight Harold,” Reese told him, “Root, Shaw.”

Shaw said goodnight with her mouthful and Root just smiled. Harold mumbled a goodbye without looking away from the screen.

“I’m gonna head home too,” Shaw wadded up her gyro wrapper. She stood up off of the couch. She was trying to meet Root’s eyes, but the hacker was staring at the screens. She walked past Root and Harold to the bathroom, to throw away her trash. She dropped something soundlessly into Root’s jacket pocket that was hanging on the back of the chair. Then she left.

After Root yawned for a fifth time, Harold insisted that she go get some sleep. She pulled on her jacket because she got cold when she was tired. She was just going to warm up and keep working. She leaned back in the chair and put her hands in the pockets trying to get warmer. She was about to just tell Harold she could take a cat nap on the bed in the loft when she felt something in her pocket. She closed her hand around it found it was a key. She smiled softly and told Harold that she would get going. She told him he should sleep as well and then left.

Just as Root suspected, the key fit perfectly in the lock on Sameen’s door. She unlocked it and stepped inside, finding Shaw sleeping on the bed.

But Root knew she wasn’t really asleep because someone like Shaw never sleeps through her front door opening. Not after they'd been tased in their own bed anyway. Root brought a bag with her and changed in the open, admiring the view of the nighttime city lights. Shaw never opened her eyes or rolled over to see her. She just remained silent and still in the bed, knowing exactly who was in her apartment.

Then Root sat down on the bed as softly as possible. She looked over at Shaw’s slow, even breaths and smiled. She wanted to reach out and touch Shaw, but she wasn’t sure if it would be okay at the moment. She didn’t know where they were standing or what kind of mood Shaw was in. So she laid down and pulled the blankets up over her shoulders.

Root knew that loving Shaw was going to be a one sided game. She also knew that in her line of work any day could be her last so she wasn’t going to waste time wondering what she was going to get back. She was going to be happy and make Shaw as happy as possible and that was it.

When Shaw woke up, she found that Root was gone. Her stomach rumbled as she took another inhale. The apartment air smelled like a bakery. Shaw sat up and looked around finding that the apartment was empty, but there was a note on the oven.

Shaw got up and walked to the oven to read it. Of course it was cryptic and just an address with a time. Shaw opened the oven and found that it was warm and there were scones in it.

She picked up the scones, closed the oven, and took a bite. She picked up her earpiece and slipped it into her ear. Then she tapped it. “You’re lucky you didn’t blow us up, Root.”

She could hear the smile in Root’s voice when she answered, “I should have known you disconnected the gas and stored grenades in your oven in anticipation of a firefight in your apartment.”

Shaw took a bite of her scone, “Where are my grenades?”

“In the freezer,” Root answered. “Next to the fifty cal ammo.”

“What’s this address?” Shaw asked, taking another bite of the scone.

Root typed on her computer in front of her. She paused and leaned back in her chair at her sidewalk table, eyeing a man being walked into the police station in handcuffs, “I got a number. A server at a bistro uptown. I thought, you’d appreciate an assignment with food. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to get arrested.”

Root hung up on Shaw and trotted to catch up with Fusco who was walking toward his precinct. “Lionel, I need your help.”

Fusco jumped to the side of the sidewalk, “Jesus. Don’t sneak up on a cop like that.” He straightened out his jacket, “Why don’t you ask your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Root swallowed the word girlfriend like a huge pill and put on a smile, “I need a cop’s help.”

Fusco looked at her, “You sure she’s not your girlfriend?”

“It’s complicated and devastatingly simple, Lionel,” Root put her hands in her pockets. “It’s also none of your business.” She looked next to her at him, “I need you to arrest me.”

“What?” Fusco looked at her, “You’ve really jumped off the deep end.”

“I didn’t want to have to do this, Lionel,” Root reached behind her and took out her gun.

Fusco stopped cold on the sidewalk and looked at her, “What are you going?”

“Are you going to arrest me or am I going to have to discharge my gun in public?” Root asked, tucking it back into the back of her pants where no one could see it.

Lionel reached behind himself and took out his handcuffs, “I think I should take you straight to the State Hospital.”

Root grinned and put her hands behind her back. “Maybe later. I have a prisoner to save.”

+=+=+=+=+

Root was sitting at the table outside the restaurant when Shaw walked up. She sat down in the chair across from Root, seeing her in glasses with her hair up. Her laptop was open on the table. There was tea steaming beside it.

A server immediately walked over to them and asked Shaw what she wanted. Shaw looked over the menu and ordered a sandwich, a tea, and a piece of pie. He walked off with a nod and a smile.

“That our guy?” Shaw asked, seeing Root looking at her over the top of her laptop screen.

Root nodded. “His name is Joel. He’s twenty-nine. Perfect credit. Nice apartment. But his birth certificate is only two years old.”

“Government or hacker?” Shaw asked.

“Both. WitSec” Root smiled wickedly. “He was a hacker and contract killer for the government, but went into hiding..”

Shaw looked over at the server, “That kid? No way.”

“Some of the best contract killers are the best because they don’t look like they’re about to put a bullet in your head,” Root smirked.

Shaw couldn’t stop a smile. She knew that Root was grouping herself into the contract killers who don’t look the part. “I don’t know. Sometimes you get this look on your face that means the bodies about to start dropping. It’s a sick gleeful twinkle in your eyes.”

Root chuckled. “Thank you for noticing.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and watched the server walk to another table. “Where’s John?”

Root shrugged, “I don’t know. I just got out of jail.”

“How’d you manage that?” Shaw quirked an eyebrow at the woman across from her.

Root smirked, “I asked Lionel nicely and then I threatened to shoot my gun in a crowded area. After that I tased a gang hitman and walked out of the police station.”

Shaw shook her head in disbelief, but had a small smile on her face. That was actually definitely something Root would do.

Shaw’s food arrived and Root put her computer away in her bag. She sipped her tea and watched Shaw eat while keeping an eye on their number. She stole a potato chip off of her plate with a smile and ate it while Shaw glared at her.

Root adjusted her glasses and smiled when the waiter looked at her. He smiled back and walked back to the table, “Can I get you anything else?”

Root leaned on the table with a mischievous grin. “I was thinking about having some dessert. What’s good here?”

“Oh we make the best tiramisu in the city,” he smiled back. He touched Root’s shoulder and nodded to her, “How about I go get you one?”

If the man looked over at Shaw, he surely would have fear that he would lose the hand that was touching Root, but he didn’t. He just turned around and walked back into the restaurant.

Root tucked her hair behind her ear and watched him walk away.

“Subtle,” Shaw growled from her side of the table and crunched particularly loud on a chip.

“You know me,” Root watched the waiter go into the kitchen. “Subtle.” She rested her fist against her cheek and looked out over the street. She bit her lip and then sat back in her chair.

“The Machine say something?” Shaw asked, noticing how fidgety Root was.

Root shook her head, “No.” Root was about to speak again when the waiter walked up to her. He smiled charmingly and set the tiramisu down in front of her. He also set Shaw's pie, but was a little frightened of her glares so his attention moved to Root, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“This looks great,” Root smiled back.

The waiter walked off and Root picked up her fork. She pushed her fork into the dessert and took a bite . “Tell me, Shaw, if you have two people standing next to each other and you want to kill one of them with a quick and deadly disease, but not the other one, what do you do?”

“A gun,” Shaw stated, taking a large bite of her pie. When Root sighed softly, she rolled her eyes, “If there's a risk of infection to the other one...maybe find something they're immune to? Like if one had chicken pox as a kid, introduce chicken pox to the adult. It's not likely to be fatal, but you can get in the hospital and shoot them there.”

Root looked at Shaw and a slow smile spread across her face, “You're a genius, Sameen.”

“I know,” Shaw took another bite of her pie.

Root started to reach down to her bag, but she saw some suspicious looking men walking briskly toward the restaurant. Shaw saw the look and turned around. She picked up the last of the pie and shoved it into her mouth before standing. “You get him out of here. I'll run interference.”

Root picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder, walking quickly into the restaurant. She grabbed Joel's arm as he walked toward her, “Walk with me.”

“But I-” he started speaking.

Root shoved him into the kitchen and then guided him toward the backdoor, “You need to call your handler. You're going to need a new identity.”

“Wha-” Joel started until Root opened the back door and there where two men standing there menacingly.

Root reached for her gun, but the men pulled theirs out to point at her. Root peered out the door, not seeing a camera anywhere, “Damn blind alley.”

The quiet pfft of a suppressed gun went off twice and the men were on the ground from bullet wounds to their kneecaps. Shaw tucked the gun into her pocket and jerked her head toward the street, “It's clear for now.”

Joel was already on the phone as he was escorted down the street, “Two guys...they just tried to kill me...”

Shaw looked at Root. Root smiled, “What do you want to do with him until his handler can pick him up?”

Shaw's eyes lazily swung to the young man and she knew exactly where they were going to leave him.

“Are you sure I'll be safe in here?” Joel asked, his eyes frantically looking from Root to Shaw.

“Oh yeah,” Shaw nodded as she closed the door to the walk in refrigerator, “Definitely.”

Root quirked an eyebrow as Shaw walked past her, but she didn't say anything. She walked after Shaw and opened the door for her. Shaw looked around the street, “Where to now?”

“I have to go talk to Harold,” Root stated, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

Shaw had some things that she wanted to check out so she parted ways with Root. She met up with John in the afternoon and got to bust a few heads. They finished before dinner so Shaw stopped to get Thai food before going home.

She found Root sitting on the floor of her apartment against the far wall, perpendicular to the windows. She had her legs extended in front of her and her laptop in her lap, typing away. She bit her lip and paused before continuing to type.

“I got dinner,” Shaw announced herself and closed the door. She did get twice as much as normal on the off chance that Root would be there.

Root looked up like she was surprise by the voice and smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Shaw took off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. She moved toward Root and sat down next to her. The rustling of the plastic bag was the only sound as Shaw picked up a paper box and offered it to Root with chopsticks.

Root accepted it, absorbed again in her computer. She ate absently while Shaw indulged in her favorite hobby, eating.

Finally she couldn't take the quiet anymore. She looked at the screen, “What are you doing?”

Root paused to rub the bridge of her nose and then looked at Shaw, “I don't know. Trying to find a way to code morality into Samaritan.”

“How are you going to program Samaritan to care?” Shaw asked, “Why don't you just program it to die?”

“It's self-preservation instincts are too powerful,” Root ran a hand through her hair, “I thought that maybe I could code it to care about people the way The Machine does, but I'm starting to think it's not going to work.” She looked over at Shaw with a soft smile, “Things were so much simpler when all I had to do was steal things and kill people.”

“Tell me about it,” Shaw took another bite of her food.

Root poked around in her food before handing the box back to Shaw. “I'm not really hungry.”

“You're really worried about this,” Shaw frowned, looking over Root's face, “Look, we'll figure it out. We always do.”

Root looked at Shaw and held her eyes in an intense gaze, “Until when? To what end? I almost lost you, Sam.” Root clenched her jaw and looked away from Shaw. “You were bleeding out on the ground and I couldn't save you. Not with guns or computers. I couldn't save you.”

“You left because you care about me,” Shaw leaned to her side to try and catch Root's eyes.

Root swallowed and shook her head. She looked out the window. “I don't know. I'm good at running away. You know what they say about old habits.” She sniffled and looked at her laptop. She put her fingers over the keyboard and started typing.

Shaw didn't know what to say. She swallowed, just thinking about Root's words. She slowly rose from the floor, picking up the dinner trash. Root tried to bury herself in work, but when Shaw sat down next to her and offered her a glass tumbler of scotch, she looked away.

She took a slow sip and licked her lips with a hum, “It's good.”

“I'm sure it was expensive,” Shaw looked at her own scotch in her glass, “I stole it from John.”

Root laughed softly and rested her head on the wall behind her. She lulled her head toward the windows and looked out at the black sky. She missed the stars. There wasn't a lot of light pollution in Bishop. She could see all the stars in the sky. For short minutes, she felt like what she did or didn't do, didn't matter because Earth was just a tiny rock floating in space, waiting to be engulfed by giant balls of fire and explosions of epic proportions that swallowed entire galaxies.

But when she heard the numbers in her ear, she knew that she had a job to do. She was put in the world and given a direct line to The Machine so that she could help people. She had a calling. With unlimited information, Root had a responsibility. She had an obligation.

Shaw watched Root finish her scotch and then she filled up her glass again. Shaw topped her glass off and set the bottle down next to her.

The glasses were soon discarded and the bottle was handed back and forth. Root tired to keep working on her code, but she found it became difficult with all of the scotch in her system. She closed her laptop and set it aside. “What if I get a number and I'm drunk?”

“Then you'll have to shoot twice as much,” Shaw shrugged. She stood up and offered her hand to Root, “C'mon lightweight. Get in bed.”

Root didn't resist. She let Shaw pull her to her feet. She shed her pants and laid down on the bed. Shaw watched to make sure she made it okay. Then she picked up the scotch and glasses. She took the glasses to the sink and then put the scotch on the counter.

Shaw changed into a tank top and some shorts before slinking to bed. Root was facing away from her side of the bed. She slowly laid down, trying not to jostle Root at all. She laid on her back for a moment, trying to find a way to take down Samaritan. Her exceptional mind raced through possibilities and tactical decisions that Root and Harold weren't trained for. After a few minutes, she lulled her head to the side.

Shaw rolled over on the bed and looked at Root’s back for a moment before pressing the front of her body against Root’s back and placing a strong, protective arm around her waist.

“You don’t have to do this,” Root quietly uttered into the night. She lightly stroked Shaw’s arm that was around her and closed her eyes, trying to memorize the feel of Shaw all around her.

Shaw just laid still, “I'm cold.”

Root knew that Shaw was doing it for her. She was holding her because she knew that it was something Root would want, not because it was something that she particularly liked to do. She wasn’t normally affectionate because that required feeling things deeper than what she could, but she did it because she cared about Root and wanted her to be happy.

Root let it happen. She closed her eyes and put her arm on top of Shaw's, letting Shaw's strong arm hold her solidly and firmly. She went to sleep the most content she had ever been in her life.

Shaw stayed awake though. She could feel Root slowly slipping onto sleep. She waited until she was sure Root was in at least stage 3 of her sleep cycle and then she slipped out of bed. She pulled on some black pants, put on some boots, and grabbed her jacket.

She didn't look back when she walked out the door.

 


	6. useradd -m SHAW

Early in the morning, Shaw stepped into the alley where the safe house was. She had called Harold to make sure he was there and John was on the way. When she got close to the door, she whirled around and pointed her gun at the person following her.

“Good morning to you too, Sameen,” Root put her hands in her pockets.

“I'm going to shoot you someday,” Shaw pocketed her gun and walked to the door. She pressed the numbers in the keypad and opened the door.

Root walked past her, “I look forward to it.”

Shaw followed Root up the stairs and through the door. Root smiled to the room, “Good morning, Harold.” She took a jump drive out of her pocket and handed it to him. “It isn't much, but I think it way be a start.”

“Thank you, Ms. Groves,” Harold accepted the drive and plugged it into his computer.

Shaw's phone rang so she stepped outside to take it and Root sat down next to Harold.

“You look like you didn't get much sleep,” Harold told Root.

Root shook her head, “I just feel like it's been too quiet for too long. I feel like Samaritan is building an army and we're still just us.”

Harold picked up the chess piece that was still on the table, “What did The Machine tell you?”

“It's just a feeling,” Root sighed deeply. “She showed me game. She showed me the pieces and the odds. There are different ways this ends, but... there will be sacrifices.”

Harold nodded firmly, “We knew that already.”

Root looked to the computer, “Maybe we can-”

Shaw walked in the door, “I reached out to some of my contacts in the CIA and did a little old school investigation last night,” Shaw looked over Harold's shoulder. “The veterinarian we helped, the kid in WitSec, the construction worker that John and I saved a few days ago all had top secret clearance.”

Harold typed quickly on the keyboard. All the files that he had recently put together on their previous saves popped up on the screen. Then he ran a more extensive search.

“A hacker hitman, a vet, and a construction worker?” Shaw thought out loud.

“More specifically, a network security specialist, a doctor of molecular biology, and a structural engineer,” Harold looked at the three pictures on his screen. The pictures from their licenses morphed on the screen into government facility ID cards.

Root cocked her head, “There are more. They're all in danger.” She typed on her computer. “They all worked in a building that was code named Cedar Forest in 2002. The whole operation shut down two years ago. The files will take a little while to get into, but the shipping manifestos had a lot of hazardous materials and livestock.”

A dense silence settled over the group before Shaw spoke, “Bio weapons.”

“Which is going to make it a lot harder to figure out who is trying to off them,” Reese put his hands in his pockets.

Harold started constructing a photo tree of everyone that he surmised worked for the program inside Cedar Forest. “We can rule out the network specialist, the doctor, and the engineer.”

“Ronnie Davis is in Portugal,” Root pointed to one of the photos on the screen. “His number was up a few weeks ago.”

They continued ruling out people in the organization that had either saved or were already dead until they were left with three people who were in danger or were the ones picking the others off. One of which lived out of the country and the other two were in the New York City area. Root took off for the closest one and Shaw drove Reese to the second one in her new car.

“Nice car,” Reese commented as they rumbled to the suburbs.

Shaw grinned, “It's a sexy car.”

“Did you steal it?” Reese looked down at the door panel.

“Actually, uh, Root built it,” up until that point, she had been very careful not to bring up Root when she was alone with Reese. She knew that he knew they were sleeping together, both literally and figuratively. She didn't want anyone to want her to explain. She didn't like explaining herself and she would put a bullet in her own kneecap before having any kind of conversation like that with Reese.

However, he knew her well and didn't say anything about it. He just hummed in approval. He reached under the seat to see if there was anything there and then opened the glove box. Inside the glove box a neat row of handguns were lined up. Reese counted five guns and then pulled one out. “They're all loaded.”

Shaw clenched her jaw trying to keep a smile down. Root built a sexy car, gave it to her, and filled it to the brim with weapons. She was going to have to _talk_ to Root about the car when they got in bed later that night.

Halfway to their person's house, Harold informed them that the person's number popped up so they needed to use caution.

“Who do you think is after these people?” Shaw asked Reese although she had an idea.

Reese tapped with window with the back of his fingers, “Probably the government funded through a fake radical conspiracy group.”

“That sounds about right,” Shaw tapped the steering wheel. She was wondering to herself why they were saving those people. For all they knew that secret team of people created the dirtiest dirty bomb to ever grace the planet. If they all died, maybe their secret recipe would too.

They parked outside the man's house in a nice suburb. Reese suggested they call Root and see what was happening at her address. Root answered with a chipper voice, “Hey you two. How's it going?”

“No one at the house, it looks like,” Reese picked up some binoculars from his breast pocket.

“We found your gun stash,” Shaw added.

“I thought you might like that,” Root paused, “How would you two like to go to a masquerade ball tonight? My number is locked up in her apartment getting ready.”

Reese looked over at Shaw who looked like she was about to protest. He just shrugged, “Sounds fun.”

After searching the house of their number, they found that they were too late. He was dead in his closet. It looked like a suicide because he hung from the clothes bar by an extension cord, but Shaw found needle marks on his arm.

“We're going to have to stop whoever is doing this,” Reese commented as they were walking out of the house, “They'll just keep circling around until they kill everyone who worked on whatever project they're trying to hide.”

Shaw stopped in the entryway and pushed around some piled up mail. She picked up a card. “It looks like he was invited to our ball as well.”

“I wonder how many of them got that same invitation,” Reese adjusted his gloves.

Shaw dropped the invitation and opened the front door, “Probably all of them. Getting everyone to come to the party is easier than bringing that party to them.”

“I hacked into the party planner's email,” Harold told Shaw and Reese. “Everyone not killed before last week has been invited to the ball.”

“You get RSVPs, Finch?” Shaw asked.

“Every single one of them,” Harold answered.

Shaw looked over at Reese, “I don't like it. What if it's a trap for more than the Cedar Forest people?”

Reese knew Shaw's worry. He had the same thought. Everything that was happening was getting more and more suspect.

But it was either sacrifice the people in danger on a hunch or help them out and risk themselves. When it came to Harold and his agents, there was always only one answer to that conundrum.

Shaw and Reese walked up to the front entrance of the masquerade ball and found that there was a bouncer with a list of people who were able to attend. He looked boredly at Shaw and Reese, “You can't come in without a mask.”

“Oh well we -” Shaw started to make up an excuse when a smiling, masked woman popped up behind them.

“This is so fortunate,” Root dug around in her purse and pulled out two masks. “I couldn't figure out which one to wear so I decided in the car.”

Shaw accepted the 'extra' mask from Root. Her mask was made of black lace and contrasted with her white strapless cocktail dress. She paused when she looked at Shaw who had put on the swirling black mask on her face. Her face lit up, “You're Dr. Martin.” Root put her hand over her mouth. She turned to Reese and found him wearing the white Phantom of the Opera mask. “You must be Wes.” She glanced at the guard who was looking at her funny. She smiled at him, “Sorry I'm kind of a big fan. I read the Wikipedia article on Dr. Lillian Martin on the way over.” Root glanced at Shaw and Reese before leaning forward and whispering, “I think it's really progressive of Wes to take her last name.” Root pointed to the list, “I'm Caroline Adler by the way.”

The bouncer looked forcefully bored and moved out of the way.

“My darling,” a man trotted up the stairs in an expensive black suit, stark white shirt, and skinny tie. He put his hand on the small of Root's back and smiled a charming smile over a Londoner's accent, “Sorry. I got to chatting with the valet about football.”

“That's alright,” Root smiled at him. She hooked her arm through his and walked past the bouncer.

Shaw and Reese walked in behind them and they all dispersed. Shaw tapped her earpiece, “Lillian?”

“I made you a fake Wikipedia page too,” Root answered.

“Aw honey,” Reese showed Shaw his phone, “You're the lead researcher at Reykjavík University School of Medicine specializing in neonatal phototherapy.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I'm going to get a drink.” She moved to the bar and looked around for their people. “Does anyone have eyes on the targets?”

“I have one,” Root answered. Everyone could hear Root's man-candy ask if she wanted to dance. She brushed him off and told him to go get her a drink. “I'll go chat her up and see if anyone has too much interest.”

“Reese, you wanna check for exits?” Shaw asked, leaning back on the bar.

“On it,” Reese checked his watch and took a walk toward the back of the building.

Root followed her mark in a purple dress into the ladies' restroom and Shaw spotted another mark walk in the door. She opted to sit at the bar and keep her eyes on him from across the room.

“Check your phone,” Root appeared behind Shaw.

Shaw opened her handbag, careful not to reveal her gun, and looked at her phone. “No signal. How did you know?” Shaw asked, “I thought you had a direct line to The Machine.”

“I do,” Root rubbed her ear, “But this implant buzzes when it's being jammed. There are a few guys in cheap suits around the perimeter. Keep your eyes open.”

“Who's the manmeat?” Shaw asked looking across the room.

“A chatty barista who has always wanted to go to a masquerade ball. I don't know where he got the accent from. He's from Cleveland,” Root picked up Shaw's drink and took a sip. She put it down, “If this is a trap, like I know you and Lurch think it is, me showing up alone, it would raise some flags.” Root picked up Shaw's purse, “Do you have a mirror?” She moved the clutch to her lap and slid a sat phone from her bag into Shaw's. Root handed the bag back, “Of course not. You don't need one when you look that hot all the time.” Root winked and walked off.

“You online, Shaw?” Reese asked.

Shaw scanned the room, “Yeah.”

“I don't know why Harold keeps buying you new toys if you're not going to use them,” Root added.

“There are two ways out. One through the kitchen and one through a loading bay outside of the service elevator,” Reese reported. He moved to a balcony overlooking the crowd. “Anyone else think the security is a little thick around the perimeter?”

“The guards hired for this event were a 21-year-old off-duty NYPD patrol officer and a retired 70-year-old Baltimore Property Crimes detective,” Root explained, moving toward a group of women. “Those are goons here for the Cedar Forest group or us.”

“Why don't we clear out the building?” Shaw asked, “Just get everyone out instead of sitting here like fish in a barrel.”

Shaw saw Root change directions and start following one of the women they were watching toward the back of the building. Then she looked to the front of the building. The bouncer stepped inside and closed the door, “Looks like everyone is here. What happens next? The lights go out? Tear gas?”

There was a gasp in her ear.

Shaw looked around, starting to move from the bar, “Root?”

Root's voice was barely a whisper, “I've been drugged.”

“Root?” Shaw asked again, more demanding. When there wasn't an answer she turned around and walked away from the bar, “John, I need you in the back of the building. Root's in trouble. This was an ambush.”

“Got it,” Reese answered, immediately moving toward the rear of the building.

“Don't- don't come back here, John,” Root said into her earpiece. She had labored breath when she added, “I could be the catalyst for the dirty bomb. Get the Cedar Forest people out of here. I got the guy that dosed me.” She swallowed, “We're going to have a talk.”

Shaw kept walking toward the back. She kept walking toward the back, “John, can you get them into the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Reese answered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge. He looked down at it and found that he had grabbed his stolen NSA badge. That was definitely going to come in handy.

Shaw pushed open a door off a small carpeted hallway. On the other side of the door, the walls were cinder block and the floor concrete. She trotted down the hallway and tried her earpiece again, “Root?”

The lack of answer was starting to worry her. She walked down the stark hallway and found herself in the loading bay. There wasn't any sign of anything out of the ordinary except a syringe on the floor. Shaw picked it up and found a label on it. She made a call and when Reese answered, she asked, “Ask the Cedar Forest people about a syringe with the label MESH – 3Q -X.”

Reese relayed the message and the people started looking at each other. One of them offered, “We weren't in the X phases of testing MESH. Our funding got cut before she could.”

“What was it?” Reese asked, “A bio weapon?”

The woman stuttered, “N-No.” She frowned, “Not-not exactly.”

Shaw looked around the loading bay and found it dark and empty. She moved to the service elevator and called it down to her. Reese started speaking into her ear, “It was a drug that was developed for enhanced interrogation tactics. It hadn't gotten to live testing yet so everything about it is theoretical. There's not even supposed to be actual samples of it.”

“Root, you hear that?” Shaw asked, “You're not patient zero. Let's go.”

“I still have some questions for this nice young man,” Root answered. She had tied the man to a pillar in an under-construction office with fiber optic cable. She rubbed her eyes and tried to see him clearly. Her knees temporarily gave out and she grabbed onto a carpentry table next to her.

“You don't look like you're in any condition to be asking questions lady,” the man watched Root try to gather herself.

Root opened up her clutch and pulled out a gun. She placed it on the table next to her and then picked up a hacksaw. “Drugged or not, I'm going to enjoy this.” She leaned on the carpentry table and asked, “So are you right or left handed?”

The man's face went from cocky bravado to complete terror. He looked around, “I-I-I think that…”

Root stepped forward with the saw. She looked at both sides of the man. “Oh you play a stringed instrument.” She picked up his fingers on his left hand and ran her fingers over his fingertips, “You're right-handed.” She picked up the saw and slammed it into his right forearm. The man screamed as the thin blade buried itself into his arm half an inch.

Root yanked the saw out, “What's your name?”

“F-Frank,” the man answered.

“Who do you work for, Frank?” Root wiped the blood off of the saw on the man's pants. She could feel her head getting lighter and her equilibrium starting to tip to one side. When he hesitated in his answer, she brought the saw down again on his arm.

He gritted his teeth and breathed quickly, “Some guy named Wren. Harold Wren.”

Root took a step back, “How did you meet Harold Wren?”

“I never met him. He emailed all of us,” the man explained, “We didn't meet until today.”

“Where'd you get the drug?” Root heard the elevator open behind her, but didn't turn around. She knew who was there.

“The- the lady gave it to me,” the man answered, “The one in the purple dress. She said Mr. Wren sent her.”

“John,” Root turned away from the man, “Do you have a woman in the purple dress?”

Reese turned around from his phone call to find a syringe flying at his face. He deflected it with a forearm and knocked it out of the woman's hand.

“Helen,” one of the other people shrieked, “What are you doing?”

She kicked Reese in the shin, hit him with a pasta pot, and pushed her colleagues out of the way out the door.

Upstairs, Root wavered again and Shaw swiftly moved next to her to steady her.

Root slowly walked to the table and picked up her clutch. She opened her clutch and extracted something else. As she walked past Frank, she tased the man unconscious.

Root kicked off her shoes and moved back to the carpentry table. She put both hands on the surface and leaned heavily on it.

Shaw watched her carefully trying to fully diagnose Root and come up with a treatment plan. She called to Reese, “Can you get those nerds with you up the elevator?”

“Yeah,” Reese answered.

“Sixth floor,” Shaw answered and moved to Root's side. “You should sit down.”

“Hold on,” Root dug in her clutch, past the various weapons. She picked up her cell phone. She started to move away from the table, but the second she let go of the table she almost fell. Root closed her eyes, “Shaw, can you put this phone on the windowsill? I can't seem to make it over there.”

Shaw took the phone and walked to the window, propping the phone up, camera facing the room. When Shaw turned back around, she saw Root putting her head down on the table. “Sit down.”

“I can't,” Root rolled her head, “They're coming up the stairs.” She smiled and shook her head trying to shake her vision back into focus. She reached into her clutch and grabbed her gun. She pointed it at a doorway that led out of the large room they were in.

The elevator dinged. The frightened people got out and cowered at the far end of the room. Reese pulled the emergency stop on the elevator and moved over to Root and Shaw.

“Root, you okay?” he asked.

“Peachy,” Root heaved herself up straight and gestured to the door, “They're coming up the stairs.” Root grabbed her stomach and moved around the table. Sweat was starting to bead on Root's forehead and chest.

“Maybe someone should take the gun away from her,” one of the people in the corner suggested. “She could start hallucinating and you know, kill us all.”

Reese used a pallet jack to move a stack of drywall in front of the people they were protecting, “She keeps the gun.” Reese took off his jacket and loosened his tie.

Root leaned on a pillar and pointed her gun at the door. She shot at the wall and hit it. The people in the corner were looking at each other like Root had just shot at a hallucination, but Shaw and Reese knew better. A second later, a man stumbled to the opening at the door and collapsed with a gunshot wound to his chest.

Root grabbed onto the wall, “How long is this supposed to last?”

The group in the corner consulted with each other. A woman spoke up, “We're not sure. We never got to live testing. Maybe a few hours or a few days.”

Root blinked hard and shook her head, “I have to get out of here.”

Reese turned toward Root, “You okay?”

Root pointed her gun at him, “Get back.” She put her hand on her face. “It's a -” She rubbed her face hard and her gun started trembling.

“I think she's having a bad reaction,” a man in the corner offered.

A woman shook her head slowly, “It's working like it's supposed to. She's going to lose her mind and then she'll believe anything anyone tells her.”

Shaw looked over at Reese and they shared a worried look. Shaw saw movement in the hallway and started shooting. “We can't let her out of our sight. If Samaritan gets a hold of her, she’ll tell them everything and she _knows_ everything.”

“You wanna get the gun from her?” Reese asked.

Shaw jerked her head toward the door and Shaw slowly moved toward Root. “Hey Root.”

Root pointed her gun at Shaw, “Stop.”

“I just want your gun so you don’t shoot someone,” Shaw took another step toward Root, “Someone that’s on your team.” Shaw moved forward when Root closed her eyes and took the gun out of her hand.

Root crumpled into the ball on the floor and started whimpering, “It hurts.”

“Hey,” Shaw knelt down next to her, “It's okay. We'll get you out of here.”

“You have to lock me up in a hole,” Root looked up at Shaw, the pain evident on her face and tears rolling down her cheeks, “Somewhere even I can't get out. If Samaritan captures me...”

“I know,” Shaw nodded. She took Root's arm and pulled her to her feet. She pulled Root over to the corner and pointed her gun at the group, “Which one of you nerds made the drug?”

“It was a team effort -” a woman started, but everyone stepped away from her and pointed at her. She sighed, “I did.”

Shaw moved Root toward her and said, “You're in charge of her until we get out of here.” Shaw started to walk toward the opening when she remembered something. She turned back around and walked to Root. She put her hands on Root's waist and then moved down her legs, patting her down. When she came back up and slipped her hand up the side of Root's dress, just barely losing her fingers and pulled out a taser.

Root forced a pained smile, “You might want to do a more thorough check.”

Shaw rolled her eyes, but as she turned around a smirk played on her lips. Root was being a perv. Everything was going to be okay.

And she thought that as she cleared the building of men trying to kill them. But when they were in the car and Root was screaming in pain and terror, she wasn't so sure.

As they walked out Reese saw Root's date making out with a caterer in the back of the venue. He tased him as they walked out with Root's taser.

Reese took the Cedar Forest team to the airport and sent them in different directions before joining Shaw and Harold at the safehouse. He found them in the basement, watching Root through the window of a metal door. The room she was in was empty, except for a mattress and a book.

Root was pacing the length of the room, talking to herself and occasionally clutched her stomach and whimpering.

“You wanted this,” Reese held up a small blue pouch to Shaw.

Shaw took it from him and rolled up her sleeves. She opened the pouch and took out a needle and a small glass bottle with liquid in it. “I have to sedate her or she's going to hurt herself.”

“Are you going to keep her down here?” Reese asked.

“We tried to keep her upstairs, but she escaped the handcuffs and got halfway down the street before Ms. Shaw caught up with her,” Harold answered.

“She started crying and telling me that they were coming after her, but she wouldn't say who,” Shaw answered, moving to the door. “Close and lock the door behind me.”

Harold nodded and watched Shaw slip into the room with Root.

“Hey Root,” Shaw kept her movement slow and careful. “How you doing?”

Root shook her head. She looked at Shaw and it looked like the fog in Root's eyes cleared up, “I can't tell what thoughts are mine or The Machine's or this drug. My brain is corrupted.”

“You mind of is sedate you?” Shaw asked, holding up the needle.

Root twitched away from the needled and moved to the far end of the small room. Her entire body tensed up when she looked back at Shaw, “I-I-I I'm trying to – to stay.” She clenched her fists for a long moment before offering Shaw her arm. “Please, Sameen. Make it stop.”

Shaw walked swiftly over to Root and took Root's arm. Root fought back for a moment, before Shaw pinned her to the wall and injected her with the sedative. Shaw held her against the wall until Root slipped into a lethargic state. She moved Root to the mattress on the floor and laid her on it.

“How do you feel?” Shaw asked, kneeling next to her.

“Tired,” Root answered.

Shaw saw a distance look in Root's eyes, “Do you feel nauseous or anything?”

“No,” Root stated.

Shaw stood up and walked out of the room, making sure to take the syringe with her. “I'm going to stay here for a few hours and make sure she sedative doesn't react badly with the loopy confession drug she's on.”

“Do you need anything?” Reese asked.

“A sandwich,” Shaw answered tossing the syringe in a nearby garbage can. “And a chair.”

“We can do that,” Harold told Shaw. “Does Ms. Groves need anything else?”

Shaw looked in the window at Root who was laying down on the mattress mumbling to herself or to The Machine, “Water and a change of clothes”

Reese immediately went upstairs to get Root some clothes that she kept around and Harold went to get food. Reese sat respectfully away from the door while Shaw went into Root's cell.

“Hey Root,” Shaw made sure the door was closed behind her before she approached Root.

Root looked at Shaw, her hair in her face. She slowly sat up. “Are you going to strip search me?”

Shaw moved to the bed and knelt down next to Root. Root leaned forward and Shaw unzipped her dress, “I bet your date is wondering where you are.”

“He's an idiot,” Root closed her eyes for a long moment and then opened them. “She keeps telling me what's real. There's a book and a mattress. There's a book and a mattress.” Root swing her head with the words.

Shaw moved Root into a laying position and pulled off her dress. When she saw Root's lingerie, she asked, “Did you have plans tonight?”

“I was hoping to come to your place so we could have sex,” Root stated completely honestly.

Shaw was a little surprised by the bluntness. Usually Root had an innuendo or two up her sleeve. “I guess they were right about you spilling all your secrets.” Shaw handed Root some black pants and a blue tank top. Root sat up and got the pants on with a little difficulty. Then Shaw helped her get the shirt on.

Shaw looked at Root who laid back down and realized that she could ask Root anything she wanted to know and Root would tell her. She could ask the Machine anything. She could ask Root anything.

“What do you want to know, Sameen?” Root laid down on the mattress and closed her eyes, trying to block out all the conflicting voices in her head. When Shaw looked at her too long, she knew what Shaw was thinking.

Shaw stood up, “Where's Harold with my sandwich?”

“Two blocks away,” Root answered, “He'll be here in seven minutes because he stops at all crosswalks.”

Shaw sat back on the floor against the wall. “What really happened to my leather motorcycle jacket?”

“I stole it,” Root smiled.

“I knew it,” Shaw glared at Root. She stretched out her legs. “How do you feel?”

“Like I'm floating in a haunted house, I can't get out of,” Root's smile faded and she swallowed, trying to keep down the anxiety that was crawling all over her body.

Shaw scooted closer to Root. She looked at her face, “Root.” When Root looked up at her Shaw told her, “There's a mattress and a book. There's me.”

“There's a mattress and a book,” Root repeated, holding Shaw's eyes, “And there's you.”

 


End file.
